Inner Demons
by Doc Stewart
Summary: * Complete, with author's notes. * Two months have passed since the events in Grave, and Willow is trapped in a prison of her own making. How far will Giles go to save her, and who can help him? How far will Willow go to save herself?
1. Shards

Description: Two months have passed since the events in "Grave", and Willow is trapped in a prison of her own making. How far will Giles go to save her, and who can help him? How far will Willow go to save herself?  
  
Disclaimer: All characters copyright of Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox. Original story copyright 2002.  
  
Rating: PG-13, and on the harder end of this rating. Contains violence, some implied gore, and significant "adult themes."  
  
Special notes: Spoilers through end of S6. The story frequently draws inspiration from the BTVS episodes "The Wish", "Gingerbread" and "Restless." Additional sources of inspiration will be credited at the end; most of them will be obvious.  
  
Comments and criticism welcome.  
  
1. Shards  
  
Buffy Summers:  
  
I go to their room, sometimes. When Dawn can't see me.  
  
Funny how I think of it as their room. For most of my time in Sunnydale, it was my mother's room. Not any more. I can still see them in this room, laughing, giggling, and dancing.  
  
I was so happy for them. And I was so jealous of them, too. Especially Tara. I saw what Tara must have seen. I saw the way my best friend's red hair gleamed and how her emerald eyes sparkled in the light - Tara's light.  
  
And then that light was gone. Tara was killed in an instant of madness. I still have no idea how it happened. After all, that monster Warren was between the house and me. I don't know what made him jerk his arm and shoot into the bedroom window. But he did. And I couldn't save her. Tara's gone, forever. One of the sweetest, most compassionate people I've ever met. Willow's light - no, our light.  
  
My best friend is gone, too. In her place was a monster with black hair and pools of darkness for eyes, who said the worst things I could imagine, and who came closer to destroying us than anyone else ever did. A monster I didn't know how to fight. In the end, Xander saved us from the monster. Giles and I just made a bigger mess of things.  
  
So the monster was gone. What's in the monster's place is even worse. In our regular phone conversations, Giles says they're still working on it, that they have the best magic users in England involved, and that things are promising. The tone in his voice tells me otherwise.  
  
I keep trying to see Willow's madness solely as coming from Tara's shocking, appalling death. But I know better. Giles has let slip as much. She had vast reserves of dark magic inside her, plus unimaginable amounts of anger, hatred, and self-loathing. It can't be - my best friend couldn't have secretly been so scarred, so injured. But she was.  
  
So I go their room. I see them happy. I see her happy, her green eyes shining with love and light. And I cry.  
  
Rupert Giles:  
  
I have just finished phoning Buffy. I have done my duty and lied to her for another few days. Yes, Buffy, we've got the best people working on her. Yes, things are still promising. I know she can hear me try to fool her, making a bloody awful botch of it, too.  
  
Just like the Ripper made a bloody awful botch of it the last time. When Willow absorbed the essence of magic I was carrying, I was secretly very pleased with myself. Scared yes, beaten yes, but also very proud. Daddy is going to save you now, little girl, I thought. Daddy was wrong.  
  
Wrong as all hell. The magical essence was supposed to reach the human part of her instantly. It was supposed to give us our back our redheaded witch, admittedly a little worse for wear. The coven promised me it would. And who am I to doubt them? But it didn't. Instead, our actions - no, my actions - turned a terrible danger into an apocalyptic one. In the end, only Xander saved us. I had been so angry and so disappointed with Mr. Harris so often. Not that day - on that day, he alone deserved the title of Hero. To say he had finally lived up to his potential would be a grave understatement. Yet in the end, even he failed.  
  
I cannot imagine what she is going through now, or what she must have gone through before. I had thought she had just been full of herself before, little more than a rank, arrogant amateur who didn't know enough to be horrified at the prospect of raising the dead. The Council is full of people whose abilities outstrip their judgment. I should know - the Ripper used to be one.  
  
Dear God, I wish I had been right. After Willow took the essence, I got the "reward" of a fraction, a little shard, of what she was feeling. There was rage and grief from Tara's death. There was the pain of feeling the world's suffering - bloody hell, that wasn't supposed to happen! But so much more of it was from Willow, herself.  
  
I am supposed to understand. I do not.  
  
So here I am, back in England. Back with the coven, and the coven's attempts to save our Willow. And back with the Council. The Council has taken quite an interest in our efforts, to say the least. So much so that my former employers send at least three wetworks boys to every ritual. The Council claims that they are merely taking precautionary measures, in case Willow becomes an apocalyptic threat again. From my experiences, and from the whispers I have heard, I wonder how much longer those measures will remain precautionary.  
  
None of this should be. I am the famous Rupert Giles, one of the most experienced and successful members of the Council. I have helped save the world from its premature end more times than all of the Council's preening agents put together. I should know what to do.  
  
I would do anything I could to save her. I love my redheaded witch just as I love my golden-headed slayer. Years ago, I swore an oath that that I would never have children, to keep them from my world. Oaths aside, I have them just the same. Which makes it all the harder that I don't know how to save her. It makes the fact that I had no idea how much pain she was in before this even worse.  
  
Now I am in the coven's inner chamber, with Willow lying lifelessly on their table. We will to try to magically cleanse her, yet again. The other members of the coven, especially the Leader, tell me I should keep my hopes up for this session. That it often takes many cleansings to make progress, especially for someone who was so poisoned by darkness. We will fail.  
  
I pray that I am going to be wrong yet again.  
  
Sheila Rosenberg:  
  
I saw a picture today on my mantle. It took a few minutes to remember who she was, but then, silly me, I saw it was a picture of Willow! My little girl, Willow. Of course, she's not so little any more. She cut her hair recently - I think she looks more grown up now. I'm not happy with some of her friends, though. Especially that Muffy girl. I don't know about her choice of boyfriends, either. I think she's dating a musician? Can't be. No, that's right. A musician, named Ollie or Omar or something like that. Can't remember if I met, him, though. Oh, well. She's in the middle of her teenage rebellion, but I'm sure my little girl will snap out of it soon, just like I did. I think - hmm, where is she now? Oh, right, she's in university - at UC Sunnydale. I wonder when I last saw her? Oh, hmm. it's so hard to recall.  
  
I saw a picture today on my mantle. Silly me, I have such a hard time remembering who it was a picture of.  
  
Willow Rosenberg:  
  
Beginning report of cleansing session.  
  
Rupert Giles probed subject's current mental condition. Initiate Laura created a text transcription of what Mr. Giles experienced. This transcription is highly approximate, given the subject's severely troubled and chaotic mental condition.  
  
Transcription follows:  
  
eeeeeeeeeeeR*Nkeeeeeeee$@#$Aeeeeeeeeee&&YTLIUGMAIYTLIUGISEHSeeeeeeeee@#$#QDe eeeeeeee@#$@Feeeeeeeeee@#$!DAeeeeeeeeeee&&EWERASREREDRUMeeeeeeeee!#@$!@#QFee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee&&GNINOSIOPSSENKRADeeeeeeee#$!#@A1eeeeeeee&&YRROSOSMAIeeee eee  
  
End transcription.  
  
Analysis: 1) Subject Willow Rosenberg's mental blocks remain almost impenetrable to standard probes. 2) The minimal information Mr. Giles has been able to obtain shows a very high degree of mental disturbance. 3) While it may be possible to break through the mental blocks using direct mental projection, the risks would be much too high for the primary adept, and it is far from clear that any benefit could result.  
  
Treatment: 1) Continue schedule of attempted cleansing rituals every second day for the next four weeks. 2) Reconsider all options for disposition of subject should subject worsen or fail to improve at the end of four weeks.  
  
Dissent: Mr. Giles recommends the use of direct projection, with himself as primary adept. His dissent from this treatment plan is duly noted.  
  
Ending transcript of cleansing session.  
  
* * *  
  
To be continued in chapter 2. 


	2. Broken

2. Broken  
  
This was the third time Dawn Summers had experienced the nightmare. It was always the same.  
  
She wandered, slowly, aimlessly through a maze of dark caverns. Then, off to the side, she saw one passage entrance with a dull reddish glow, flickering weakly. She slowly entered the passage, the glow growing stronger and brighter. She turned a corner and found herself in a brightly glowing chamber. The light hurt her eyes, and took a few seconds for her to get used to the light, like it always did.  
  
In the center of the room blazed the source of the light - a burning ball of fire, more than 12 feet across in diameter. The ball, though, was not solid; a shape writhed and twisted inside it.  
  
Dawn always approached the ball automatically, always drawn to it, and she always saw what the shape was. A body - bent, twisted, burning - writhed in agony.  
  
[He's being burned alive,] she always thought. [I must be having a nightmare about what Willow did to Warren. It was horrible.]  
  
Then, Dawn noticed a pile of black clothing to the side of the fireball. She recognized the clothes all too well.  
  
[Willow! Oh, God, no!]  
  
She jerked back towards the fireball, stifling a scream. The writhing, burning thing turned towards her. Its eyes opened - pools of swirling blackness, far darker than even the most charred bones.  
  
[Dawnie? Is that you?]  
  
Dawn froze.  
  
[Goddess, Dawnie, what are you doing here? Oh, Dawnie, I'm sorry, Dawnie, I'm so sorry, I'm so bad Dawnie, so evil ... you've got to tell them I'm so sorry, please make them see I'm so sorry for what I did and that I can never make up for it, please I'm a monster, I'm evil, I can never be forgiven, I'm sorry...]  
  
Dawn let out a scream.  
  
[so sorry Dawnie, I'm sorry, so sorry, sorry... sorry...]  
  
She kept screaming - and then she always woke up, hearing Buffy scrambling down the hall. And right before Buffy burst in, she always heard the same voice in her head. A quiet voice, firm, but pleading.  
  
[You have to help her, Dawn. You have to help her put the pieces together. You are the only one who can.]  
  
* * *  
  
"You need to find a way to relax your mind in the evenings," said Buffy. "You've been putting a serious cramp in my beauty sleep."  
  
Dawn nodded, and stared into her cereal bowl.  
  
"Think it means anything?"  
  
"I don't know. It seems awfully real. I wonder if that's what's going on inside Willow's head - oh God, I hope not."  
  
Buffy turned from the kitchen sink. "I hope not, too. I think it's just a nightmare, something from all the stress. It should stop soon. I'll ask Giles the next time I see him, though."  
  
A brief silence fell over the room.  
  
"Any word from Giles?" asked Dawn.  
  
Buffy turned again. "Yeah. He called this morning. He said - he said the latest attempt by the coven failed. No change. She still isn't responding to anything."  
  
Dawn looked down. "They have to find a way to get bring her back, don't they?"  
  
"Yeah, Dawn, I'm sure they'll find something eventually."  
  
"I don't want to hear 'eventually'. I want to hear them taking more action. Do you know what these nightmares are like? What if they're real? What if she's really burning herself over and over in her mind?"  
  
"Well, Dawn..."  
  
"Why don't they enter her mind and get her? Willow did it for you, Buffy. Someone should do it for her."  
  
Buffy came over to the table and embraced her sister. "Dawn, I wish they would as much as you do, but its not that simple. They don't have any idea what they'd find in there. Giles said they've probed a few times, and they keep hitting a wall. An inky black wall they can't get through without diving in. Right now it's too dangerous."  
  
"It's too dangerous for Willow. It's way past too dangerous for Willow. Buffy - you were there. She sacrificed herself for us."  
  
Buffy nodded.  
  
* * *  
  
Two months earlier, Dawn was feeling a little proud of herself by the time she arrived at the demonic temple. After all, Dawn thought, she had held her own against real monsters. That someone who was almost family had summoned them to try to kill her, as well as her sister, was something she shoved out of her mind. [No more "if it's Tuesday, helpless Dawn must be rescued"], she thought.  
  
Then they reached the temple, and saw Willow. More accurately, they heard her screaming first. Then they could hear her sobbing, unable to make out anything besides "I'm sorry," repeated over and over.  
  
When they finally climbed over the crest of the hill and saw Willow, Dawn felt her heart sink. There was Xander, desperately trying to cradle what looked like a shivering rag doll.  
  
The rag doll looked up and saw Buffy and Dawn. The shivering stopped, as did the crying. She looked directly at Buffy, and then stared at Dawn. She kept staring. Dawn began to feel uncomfortable. Willow's eyes began to fill with black ink.  
  
Suddenly, Willow jerked backwards, and she blinked repeatedly. Her eyes went back to being green - mostly. She collapsed to the ground, and seemed to struggle with an unseen force.  
  
Willow managed to get out a few words, barely above a whisper. "No, she's coming back, I can't let her come back, Goddess... One final spell... Buffy... Xander... Dawnie... goodbye."  
  
And with that, Willow shut her eyes. She hadn't opened them in two months.  
  
* * *  
  
It took Dawn a long time to drift off to sleep the following night. But, drift off she eventually did. She was quite relieved when she did not find herself floating aimlessly down dark caves, but was watching Giles instead.  
  
Giles seemed quite agitated as he was led down a brick hallway. The two darkly robed women leading him down the hallway seemed no less concerned. [I wonder if those two are members of the coven who sent Giles back to Sunnydale], Dawn thought.  
  
Dawn's thoughts were quickly confirmed. Giles and his two escorts passed through what looked like an iron door, and entered a large, well-lit brick chamber. Willow was lying on a large stone table in the center of the chamber. [Poor Willow - she looks no better than when we last saw her], Dawn thought.  
  
Giles quickly went over to Willow, and gently pried her eyelids open. He was taken aback to find swirling black ink.  
  
"How long has she been like this?" Giles asked. Dawn noted a tone of excessive politeness in his voice.  
  
"Only about an hour. We felt the disturbance first, and saw it pretty quickly. We called you as soon as we could."  
  
"I sense it as well - it's the same thing we felt two months ago. Not as strong yet, but - bloody hell, the dark energy, the rage, the sorrow, and now the guilt, are building even faster than before. Where's the Leader?"  
  
"We summoned her the same time we summoned you. She told me to tell you that she shares your grave concern, and suggests that we retry the cleansing ritual..."  
  
"The cleansing ritual." Giles made a slight hissing noise. "A perfectly safe and pure affair. We have already tried it fourteen times. It will not work. You know it, and the Leader knows it as well."  
  
"Mr. Giles, I appreciate your concern, but."  
  
Giles cut her off. "And, you know what will work. The time for cleansing is over. Now is the time for action. Help me - I'm going in."  
  
"Ahem. Mr. Giles, the Leader reiterates that projecting yourself into her mind is strictly forbidden, as the risk to you may..."  
  
The politeness was gone.  
  
"Risk? Damn it, I will tell you about risk, child. If I don't go in, Willow will die. We may all die in the process. Forget that, the whole planet may die. Now help me do what I have to do."  
  
The escorts hesitated. "But the Leader..."  
  
"Can damn well cleanse us when we're done. Now help."  
  
The escorts stopped hesitating, and approached Giles. The former watcher sat down on a small chair at the head of the bed. Dawn watched as Giles gently embraced Willow's face. "I'm coming, love. I'm sorry it took so long," he whispered.  
  
The escorts began chanting. The chamber shifted, and wavered - and Giles was no longer there. Giles was nowhere.  
  
Instead, Dawn was suddenly hurled into a flashing whirlwind of images, roars, piercing screams and clashing voices. All making no sense, but all seemingly terrifying. And then, as suddenly as the whirlwind began, it stopped. All was completely dark and quiet.  
  
Then Dawn heard a small voice that chilled her. It was the same voice she had heard just a few months ago, after she saw Rack's body hanging from the ceiling.  
  
"Oh, good. Daddy's all through the nasty wall she made. Now I can have some fun," said the voice.  
  
"Willow, is that you?" asked the disembodied voice of Giles. "We need to talk, Willow."  
  
"Uh oh, Daddy's mad. I've been a bad girl. Very bad."  
  
"Willow," said Giles, "I'm not angry with you. But we need to talk about this."  
  
"Oh good. Don't be mad, Daddy. Play with me! I'm bored. I played with them, but they weren't any fun. No fun at all."  
  
"Who are you talking about, Willow?"  
  
"Warren and Rack. I played with them, but they broke. It's no fun when they break."  
  
The voice of Giles gasped. "Now, Willow, I know you may be feeling..."  
  
The other voice cut him off. "Been months of no fun, now. Just here, in the dark and cold and boring. But now you're here. Play now."  
  
"Willow, this is no time for games," Giles snapped. "This is a very serious matter. I want to help you, but you have to let me..."  
  
"Bored now," said the voice. "Want to play. It's been so boring and no fun since she broke."  
  
The voice of Giles paused. "She? Who else broke, Willow?"  
  
"I did."  
  
The blackness ripped apart and shattered, and Dawn felt herself falling.  
  
A few seconds later, Dawn found herself watching Giles, who was now inside a dark cavern. Off to the side, one entrance to a passage flickered weakly with a dull reddish glow. Giles resolutely walked towards the entrance.  
  
[Oh, no], thought Dawn. [He's going to walk through the passage, and enter a chamber with a ball of fire.] Dawn's thoughts were cut off by a loud sound coming from the sides of the cavern. Giles did not enter the passage. Instead he assumed a ready position, just in time for scores of rotting skeletons to burst from the cavern walls.  
  
Dawn yelped mentally, and hoped that Giles would be able to mentally conjure a weapon to fight them. Giles, however, was not perturbed.  
  
"Disbelieve."  
  
The skeletons immediately vanished. [Cool], thought Dawn.  
  
Then Dawn heard a low, guttural growl. "Bother. But then, I hardly expected to get rid of you the easy way. Come on in, Daddy."  
  
Giles said nothing, but soldiered through the passage entrance. Dawn braced herself to see the fireball yet again. Instead, she was pleasantly surprised to find herself in a classroom. And there - yes! - was a perfectly normal-looking Willow. Not quite normal, perhaps - she looked much younger, as Dawn remembered her from her first year in Sunnydale. She had long straight hair, and was wearing, from Dawn's perspective, a really conservative "schoolgirl" outfit. Dawn softly giggled to herself.  
  
"Sit down, class. Come to attention!"  
  
Giles sat down at a desk. Willow smiled and blushed.  
  
"Why, Mr. Giles, welcome to our class! It's so great to have you as our guest today. And I'm going to report on a special book, Mr. Giles. C. S. Lewis's The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. This book has many themes, not just the obvious ones."  
  
Dawn smiled to herself. This was turning out not to be such a bad dream after all. It was, after all, a really good book. She almost did not notice a growling noise that slowly grew louder, and louder.  
  
"Actually, Mr. Giles, there's so much about this book, that I'm only going to report one part of it. My favorite character."  
  
Even Giles smiled, and seemed to relax a little.  
  
"Who do you think my favorite character is, Mr. Giles?"  
  
"I don't know," said Giles. "Lucy or Susan, maybe?"  
  
Willow giggled. Then she laughed. Then the laughing turned into a deep growling - and Dawn began to sense something was wrong.  
  
"Why, no, Daddy, my favorite character is the Witch, the rightful empress of Narnia. I, like, so identify with her, you know? And we'll have so much to say about her, won't we? Hmm?"  
  
Willow blinked, and her eyes turned black.  
  
"But first, though, this costume is getting so uncomfortable. Why, for God's sake, I'm just going to take it off."  
  
Willow grabbed the front of her outfit, and then grabbed deeper into her body than her outfit could possibly go - and Dawn mentally screamed and looked away. She heard an awful ripping sound. When she was able to bring herself to look, she was relieved to see that she was not looking at a skinned Willow, but just barely. Instead, she was looking at a demonic thing with gray skin, gray fur, six-inch long claws, and fangs that stayed visible even when the thing's mouth was closed. The thing had jet black eyes, which she (it?) used to stare at Giles for a few seconds.  
  
Then she let out a horrible laugh. Her gaze shifted, and now seemed to be looking at Dawn. [That's impossible. It's only a dream], thought Dawn.  
  
"But before we continue, Mister Giles, there's something we need to take care of. We have an absent student. The Sunnydale School Board, I remind you, frowns upon truancy. In a sense, she's already here in spirit, but that won't meet the school's requirements. Let's bring her in, shall we?"  
  
Giles slowly stirred. "Willow, what are you talking about."  
  
"Silence. I need concentration." Arcs of energy began to form at the end of the thing's claws. "And we need our fellow classmate - DAWN SUMMERS!"  
  
There was a flash and a sharp jerk. Suddenly, Dawn found herself sitting in the classroom, only a few feet away from the thing formerly known as Willow Rosenberg. The thing grinned at her.  
  
She turned to Giles, who looked completely shaken. "Dawn," he slowly got out, "what are you doing here?"  
  
"I don't know," Dawn said. "I thought I was asleep. I don't think I'm dreaming anymore."  
  
The thing let out an awful laugh. "Why no, Dawnie, you aren't in Dreamland. You sure as hell aren't in Kansas, either. Class is now in session. And there will be very strict penalties for not making satisfactory progress."  
  
An urge shot through Dawn, but she suppressed it. With all her might, she sent a command to her body.  
  
[I am not going to cry. And I am not going to scream.]  
  
* * *  
  
Buffy exploded out her bed, instinctively knowing something was wrong. She could hear Xander scrambling out of the living room couch, too. The two of them rushed into Dawn's room just seconds apart, to see Dawn apparently sleeping peacefully.  
  
Buffy breathed a sigh of relief, but then stopped. "Xan, I think we need to check up on her. Just a little." Xander nodded.  
  
Buffy quiely sat on Dawn's bed, and gently caressed her hair. "Hey Dawn, sorry to bother you," she whispered, "but I felt something strange, y' know? How are you doing?"  
  
Dawn gave no reply.  
  
"Dawnie?"  
  
Nothing.  
  
"Dawn? Wake up! Please!"  
  
Still nothing. Buffy and Xander rolled her over, and Dawn's eyelids opened, revealing black pools of swirling ink.  
  
"No! Oh, God - Xander, call England, call England now! Go!" Xander needed little prompting.  
  
Buffy pressed Dawn to her chest, sobbing. After what seemed to be days, Xander reappeared. One look at his face told Buffy the news was not good.  
  
"Something's gone wrong, Buffy. Giles dove into her mind and tried to reach her, but something went wrong. He's trapped, and it looks like, somehow, Dawn is trapped, too. And... Willow... the dark magic is building again."  
  
* * *  
  
To be continued in Chapter 3. 


	3. Sacrificed

Chapter 3 - Sacrificed  
  
"Why, Dawnie, no whining or crying. Very good. Looks like I might not be able to get rid of you the easy way, either. Bother. But it makes things interesting," said the demonic version of Willow.  
  
Dawn summoned her strength. "You're not Willow," she blurted out. "You're the same thing that tried to kill me before. What have you done with Willow?"  
  
"Miss Summers, that is no way to treat a tenured member of this city's educational establishment, you know? But, since this is your first infraction, I'll be lenient."  
  
"Answer the question. Where is Willow?"  
  
"Miss Summers, you really must remember your manners."  
  
Giles burst out. "Leave her alone, you..." He was sharply interrupted by what appeared to be an invisible punch to his gut.  
  
"Now, Mr. Giles, that is so unbecoming for our students to observe. We simply can't have that sort of conduct in this class."  
  
Dawn thought for a second. "Please?"  
  
"Very good. Well, Miss Summers, Willow Rosenberg doesn't live here anymore. In fact, she never lived here."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Willow Rosenberg - was, how shall I put this delicately for you - oh, well, maybe you're old enough for this sort of thing, but maybe not, and well, what would the school board say?"  
  
"Tell me," shouted Dawn, and then quickly added, "please?"  
  
"Okay. You talked me into it. The Willow you knew - the sweet, nerdy, cookie-baking, Willow Rosenberg, the always smiling Willow Rosenberg, the always perfect Willow Rosenberg, 'Old Reliable' Willow Rosenberg, was a lie. A fraud. A con game, you know?"  
  
"No. I don't know."  
  
"Sure, you do, Dawnie. Willow Rosenberg was just a front. A false face I put on every day. I'm the real Willow."  
  
"No," said Dawn. "I don't believe it. There is another Willow. The real Willow. I last saw her two months ago, when she sacrificed herself to save us. Where is she?"  
  
The demon creature frowned. "Oh. I see. You want to see her. Well, she's not taking visitors."  
  
"What did you do to her? I want to see her. Please."  
  
The demon frowned, then grinned mischievously. "Okay, Dawnie. If you insist. Good Willow is acting out one of the more obvious themes of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, and it's getting old. She would benefit greatly from Sunnydale's public education program."  
  
With that, the demon waved one of her claws towards the side of the classroom. The wall split in half, and folded. The now open wall opened into a small a chamber lined with gray stones. In the middle of the chamber was a stone table. On that table lay Willow Rosenberg, her limbs spread apart and tied to the edges of the table. Her hair was red, but she was wearing the same black clothes she had been wearing two months ago.  
  
It took Dawn a second to realize that a stone knife was sticking out of Willow's chest. A small trickle of blood was slowly dripping onto the floor.  
  
"Willow!" Dawn screamed. She burst out of her chair and ran to the table. Giles, still recovering from the blow, managed to make his way into the stone table.  
  
"Miss Summers and Mr. Giles, class is still in session. Return to your seats immediately!"  
  
The two "students" paid no attention to the demon, but instead began shaking the Willow on the table. Slowly, the Willow on the table began to stir, and opened her eyes. Dawn was shocked at how sickly looking they were - completely bloodshot and yellowed.  
  
"Dawn, Giles?" she whispered. "What are the two of you doing here? Oh, Goddess, you aren't here to try to rescue me, guys, are you? It's too dangerous, it's too risky, and I don't deserve it."  
  
"Sssh, Willow," whispered Giles. "It's going to be okay. We're here for you."  
  
"No, no, it can't be okay. Not after what I did. I killed two people. I tried to kill you and end the world. I don't deserve anything but punishment."  
  
"How can you say that?" whispered Dawn  
  
"Oh, Dawnie, how can I not say it. I'm evil, Dawnie, a monster. And besides - you'd better go. It's too dangerous - what if she finds you here?"  
  
"Too late for that," growled a voice from the classroom.  
  
"Oh, oh no! She's found us! It's all my fault - all my fault - all my fault..." Willow trailed off, weeping.  
  
"Willow? Willow!" yelled Dawn. She got no response.  
  
* * *  
  
Buffy made a frantic call to Anyanka's cell phone, and Anya materialized in Dawn's bedroom almost immediately. [Thank God she delivers the instant service she promises,] Buffy thought.  
  
"What is it?" asked Anya. She then looked at Dawn, walked over to her bed, and opened her eyes. Empty black pools stared back at the vengeance demon. "Oh. This is not good."  
  
"Can you do anything about this?" whispered Buffy.  
  
"I don't know. I can sort of see what's going on inside her head. Just barely. No sound, though. Let's see - looks like Dawn and Giles are in some sort of classroom. Willow is stretched out on what looks like a stone table with a knife through her chest."  
  
Buffy gasped.  
  
"Wait - there's more. At the head of the class is a gray-skinned, gray- furred demon. She's writing on the board. She's turning - Buffy, Xander, she has the same black eyes Willow did before."  
  
"So the demon is Willow, then, Anya?"  
  
"No, it can't be, she was saved," said Xander.  
  
"Well, looks like she wasn't saved nearly enough," snapped Anya. "It looks to me like - looks like they're both Willow, just different parts of her. The furry, black eyed one is clearly dominant, though."  
  
"I see," said Buffy. "Anya... you can grant wishes for vengeance, right?"  
  
"Well, of course, Buffy, within my area of expertise..."  
  
"Good. Anya - I wish for vengeance against Willow Rosenberg for what she has done to my sister. I wish that Xander, Dawn, you, and I are wherever Willow and Giles physically are in England."  
  
"Buffy, um. Not that you haven't made a good wish, now, but I don't think you understand. Vengeance for children is really Halfrek's bailiwick, and, well, Dawn would have to make the wish, and she's not really available, and..."  
  
"Anya," Buffy interjected. A tear ran down her cheek. She sighed once, then again. Then she spoke. "Please grant me my wish."  
  
The vengeance demon thought for a moment, and then spoke.  
  
"Done."  
  
* * *  
  
"Break's over, class. Besides, it's not like she's listening to you. She's busy."  
  
There was a flash, and Giles and Dawn were suddenly back to their desks. Off to the side was Good Willow. The table had been turned on its edge, so that Willow was now in a standing position facing the front of the classroom. She was still crying, seemingly oblivious to anything around her.  
  
"I figured you would want her with you. That's what I do, carry out requests." She sighed. "You'd think I'd get some appreciation, but no."  
  
Giles was about to say something, but was silenced with another blow to his stomach.  
  
"Good discipline is important to the educational process, Mister Giles. And now that everyone's here, class, the learning can really get started. Let's begin with our first lesson. A simple one, really."  
  
Demonic Willow picked up a piece of chalk and wrote on the board: "LESSON THE FIRST: CHEESEMAN REVISITED, OR, BEHOLD THE POWER OF CHEESE."  
  
"What?" asked Dawn.  
  
"What?" asked Giles.  
  
There was a knock at the classroom door. Demonic Willow answered it. A neatly dressed bald man walked in the classroom with a covered tray. He placed the tray on a desk and whisked the black covering off with a flourish. On the tray was a neat row of small American cheese slices. "I've made a little space for the cheese slices," he said proudly.  
  
"Huh?" said Dawn.  
  
"Huh?" said Giles.  
  
With a start, the demon crashed into the neatly dressed man, sending him and his cheese food flying. "Processed slices are not welcome here! Only real cheese!" she yelled.  
  
"No! The cheese - it was so neat," was the anguished cry of Good Willow.  
  
"Ow! Who moved my cheese?" whined the neatly dressed man.  
  
"Cheese?" said Dawn, looking confused.  
  
"Cheese?" said Giles, looking confused.  
  
"If that's how you feel about it, you can all wear the cheese," said Demonic Willow.  
  
"I'll have you know that I wear no cheese, young lady," snapped Giles.  
  
"This is getting cheesy," said Dawn.  
  
"You're right," said Willow. She waved her claws, and the neatly dressed man, his tray, his tray cover, and his cheese bits disappeared.  
  
"That scene had many themes, not just the obvious ones," said Demonic Willow. "In fact, it had no fewer than seven. Miss Summers, your assignment for this evening is to write an essay describing those themes. Plagiarism is strictly frowned upon by the Sunnydale school board, so for your sake I urge you not to copy from any web pages, bulletin boards, or discussion forums restlessly analyzing the Power of Cheese."  
  
"Uh, okay." said Dawn, still confused.  
  
"I thought as much," snarled Demonic Willow. "My first lesson looks like it was a bit too subtle and sophisticated for you. And as for Mr. Giles, he just so didn't get it. It looks like I'm going to have dumb down my lessons a little bit. Let's try something a bit more obvious. A discussion, perhaps?"  
  
With that, Demonic Willow wrote on the board: "LESSON THE SECOND: A DISCUSSION OF SIMILARITIES BETWEEN RUPERT 'RIPPER' GILES AND THE ENTITY FORMERLY KNOWN AS WILLOW ROSENBERG."  
  
Giles looked confused.  
  
"Yes, Mister Giles. There are many similarities between us. Why, there's that whole escapade in London, where you got a little drunk with your fellow 'rank, arrogant amateurs' - okay, a lot drunk - and you know, there just happened to be that cursed wand lying there, along with your's and Rayne's pet demons, and, oh, my..."  
  
"Willow, stop!" shouted Giles. "You can't!"  
  
"Well if you insist, Mister Giles. I suppose the school board would frown on such activities. But I want you to know, Miss Summers, that there's a reason the 'Ripper' still isn't allowed in the London Zoo until this day."  
  
Dawn looked surprised. "Wow," she said. Giles face flushed.  
  
"But enough of that. The time to consider his 'youthful indiscretions' is long past, as our leaders say. I want to focus on something more recent - that nasty Glorificus business. And that simple-minded belief you've been feeding all your kiddies. You know, 'Demons bad, people good.' And of course, 'don't ever kill a human with a soul.' Not practicing what we're preaching, huh, Mister Giles?"  
  
"What, exactly do you mean, Demon?"  
  
"My, getting uppity, aren't we, Mister Giles. Of course, that's always been the problem with you. But, of course, I suffer in silence as a tenured school board employee. So, continuing, it's Story Time."  
  
"A story?" asked Dawn.  
  
"Yes, Dawnie, a story. Mister Giles had a dilemma. Buffy had acted all Buffy-like and heroic with her troll hammer, and finally managed to whack Glory back into Ben. The dilemma: that brought back cute human Dr. Ben. 'No, I'm human, you can't kill me, mercy!' said Ben. Buffy flexed. 'Tell Glory it's over, and that she lost. Tell her she can never come back,' she said. Ben got all doe-eyed. 'Okay, she says she's lost and she'll never come back,' said Ben. Buffy flexed. 'Okay, I'll let you live. But you'll have to go to jail,' she said, and she walked away. Ben got all happy. So did Glorificus. They sat there, thinking, 'We lied like rugs and we're going to come back and inflict hellish revenge, ha, ha!' Then Mister Giles got involved."  
  
"Willow," interrupted Giles. He promptly took another invisible shot to his stomach.  
  
"Oh, come on, now Mister Giles, the Sunnydale school board approves of realism in its classes. Anyway, Mister Giles was all, like, angel of death. 'You know why Buffy didn't kill you? Because she's a hero,' he said. 'I'm not a hero,' he said, and choked the crap out of Dr. Ben. 'Choke, die!' went Mister Giles. 'Bleah, bleah, dead', went Dr. Ben and Glorificus."  
  
Dawn was stunned. Giles had committed murder? "Is it true?" she whispered.  
  
Giles looked down, removed his glasses, and wiped them on his shirt. "Yes, Dawn. I had hoped none of you would ever find out."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because it had to be done."  
  
"Yes!" the demon shrieked. "Because it had to be done. Five points for the Uppity House. Now let's use our critical thinking skills, Miss Summers. Willow - Real Willow, mind you, not Pincushion Willow - also had a dilemma. She finally caught up with Bad Warren. Bad Warren killed his girlfriend after trying to sexually enslave her. Bad Warren tried to kill Buffy by shooting her. Bad Warren killed - my love - instead, and I really don't think it was 'accidental' since the bullet went right through her aorta. Bad Warren tried to kill Real Willow by chopping her in the back with an ax. Real Willow got angry. 'No, I'm human, don't kill me, mercy!' said Bad Warren. 'Why'd you do it?' demanded Real Willow. 'Because I liked it! I want to do it again!' bragged Bad Warren. 'And again! And again! And again! And again! And again! And..."  
  
Demonic Willow gasped, seemingly out of breath.  
  
"But." whispered Giles.  
  
"No buts, Mister Giles. Anyway, Real Willow, was, like, all angel of death. 'No, don't kill me, mercy!" whined Bad Warren. 'Bored now,' said Real Willow. 'Rip, ow, ow, no skin, aiee, burn, dead,' went Bad Warren. 'That had to be done,' said Real Willow. Just like Mister Giles said almost a year earlier."  
  
Demonic Willow slumped forwards. Good Willow screamed. "No, I didn't have to kill him!" she yelled. "I'm so sorry, so sorry, so bad, so evil..." Good Willow's words tailed off, and she went back to sobbing again.  
  
"No," said Giles. "You did not have to kill him. You certainly did not have to torture him, and kill him in such a horrific manner."  
  
"Yes, I did." said the demon, firmly. "He had to feel my torment. He had to know my death. I may be all 'Dark Phoenix', but I'm not a liar. That's her specialty." She waved towards Good Willow.  
  
Giles slumped forwards.  
  
"Ah. Mister Giles, I see learning taking place. The Sunnydale school board would approve. Now class, it's time for show and tell." The thing waved its claws - and suddenly waved a .44 revolver.  
  
"Do you recognize this, Mister Giles?"  
  
Dawn and Giles were taken aback. "No," said Giles.  
  
"You lie!" hissed Demonic Willow. "So very like you. Miss Summers, do you recognize this?"  
  
"No," stuttered Dawn.  
  
"I didn't think you would, Dawnie. Don't believe Mister Giles's lies - it really does belong to him. Well, not this gun exactly, because we're inside my head, after all, but you get the idea. See, this is a very special gun, filled with very special bullets. Mister Giles brought it with him to the Tower of Glorificus over a year ago. Do you know what it was for, Dawnie?"  
  
"NO! YOU CAN"T TELL HER!" shouted Giles.  
  
"Silence! Ten points deducted from Uppity House!" With that, Giles was blown back from his desk and smacked into the back wall.  
  
Dawn jumped up, and was immediately smacked back down. "There will be order in my classroom, Miss Summers," sneered the demon. "Besides, he'll be fine in a few minutes. I haven't decided to kill him. Not yet, anyway. I suggest you answer the question. Again, do you know what this gun was for?"  
  
"Uh - to shoot Glory or Ben?"  
  
The demon laughed, making a terrible noise. "Why, no Dawnie, it was to blow your brains out once Glory used you to start shredding the universe. Mister Giles, you see, didn't have much faith in Super Buffy's ability to save the universe and you at the same time. It turns out Mister Giles was right - she couldn't quite pull it off. Looked like the special gun would have to be used," the demon twirled the gun, "but not quite. Super Buffy flexed and nobly sacrificed herself. Or just maybe not so nobly, but that's not part of this lesson. Dawnie didn't get her brains blown out after all."  
  
Dawn couldn't help but let out a sob.  
  
"Oh, don't cry, Dawnie. Buffy made a mistake, that's all. A mistake I am now prepared to rectify."  
  
With that, Demon Willow leveled the gun at Dawn and fired three shots. Dawn screamed and slumped to the floor, holding her chest.  
  
"Monster!" shouted Giles. He rushed out of his desk, and promptly keeled over from the shock of three bullets in his chest. He could barely hear Demon Willow laughing.  
  
"If that's the way you feel, Mister Giles, you can join her."  
  
* * *  
  
Buffy and Xander saw a brief flash, and then found themselves inside a brick-walled chamber. Both gasped when they saw Willow's seemingly lifeless body on the table, and Giles' immobile form sprawled on the floor. They gasped again when they saw that Willow's hair had, once again, turned jet black.  
  
They had scarcely time to react when most of the members of the coven and the Council of Watcher's special agents burst into the chamber. After some initial confusion about the "trespassers," the coven agreed to let Buffy, Xander, Anya, and an unconscious Dawn stay in the red-bricked room. The Council's agents reluctantly agreed. After all, Buffy was as close to an Official Slayer as the Council had.  
  
The coven, Council agents, Buffy, Xander, and Anya gathered around the table. Several of the adepts lifted Giles on top of the table, next to Willow, and Buffy gently placed Dawn on the table, as well. The complete group stood silently, except for Anya. The vengeance demon's running commentary was the only window they had into what was going on inside Willow's mind.  
  
And so, the group was confused over the Cheese Man's abrupt entrance and exit. They let their minds wander during "Lesson the Second," since it was impossible to tell what was going on without a soundtrack. Until, that is, the demonic version of Willow pulled out the revolver.  
  
"Oh my, this is bad," said Anya. Buffy's eyes grew wide in silent agreement. "Wait. Buffy - oh no, the furry thing shot both Dawn and Giles in the chest - they're both on the ground..."  
  
Buffy screamed. She pulled a stake out of her purse and charged the platform, driving the point towards the body of Willow Rosenberg.  
  
* * *  
  
To be continued in chapter 4. 


	4. Examined

4. Examined  
  
Buffy never made the table. The others barely managed to restrain her.  
  
"Slayer..." gasped the Leader of the coven, "if you kill Willow Rosenberg, you kill your sister and your Watcher as well. We must let things play out until their end. Besides..."  
  
"Oh look," said Anya. "Dawn and Giles have gotten up. They have no bullet holes anymore. Yay!"  
  
Buffy slumped to the ground. "Oh, God - I tried to kill her. My best friend - I just tried to kill her. And Giles, and my sister..."  
  
"Ssh. It's okay," whispered Xander. He pressed the sobbing Slayer to his chest.  
  
* * *  
  
Dawn rolled over in pain from the bullet wounds, feeling the life ebb out of her body. "Dawn..." Giles gasped, "you must fight it... must disbelieve it's happening with all your will..."  
  
Dawn fought through the pain as hard as she could. [This is isn't happening, there are no real bullets, no real bullets, I SAID no real bullets...] And suddenly, the pain and the bullets were gone.  
  
Giles rolled over, still in pain - but the bullet holes were gone from his chest, too. Both Giles and Dawn slowly got up and returned to their desks. Dawn tried to look as defiant as she could. "It will take more than that to kill us," said Giles.  
  
Demon Willow frowned. "Bother. How impressive - not only have you stopped whining and crying incessantly, you can disbelieve, too. Looks like I won't be able to get rid of you the medium-difficulty way, either. Same with Giles. But it makes things interesting."  
  
"Oh, well," the demon sighed. "Looks like class won't be dismissed early today, after all. Time for another lesson."  
  
With that, Demonic Willow wrote on the board: "LESSON THE THIRD: AN EXPLORATION OF THE FANTASY PERSONA KNOWN AS WILLOW ROSENBERG."  
  
"I have, at great difficulty, acquired the best possible resource for this lesson. I hope you will be most appreciative, class." The demon waved her claws, and an old, ratty book with a torn spine appeared. She began flipping through pages, which were covered with writing. Dawn immediately recognized the writing as Willow's.  
  
"I detect your interest, Miss Summers. Yes, this is a tome you would have done anything to read, to include employing your kleptomania-enabling skills."  
  
Dawn blushed.  
  
"But of course you couldn't, because Willow Rosenberg hid it from you. Magically. This is her secret diary, where she poured out her most secret thoughts and feelings."  
  
Good Willow screamed, but promptly fell back to weeping softly.  
  
Demon Willow nodded in the direction of Good Willow. "I thought you would have no objection," said the demon.  
  
The demon began flipping through pages. "And oh, there's so much in here. We could spend days and days..." The demon was interrupted by a rumble coming from the side wall of the classroom.  
  
The demon smiled. "But, unfortunately, it appears we are on a tight schedule today. So, I'll only have time to read one passage. What shall it be, what shall it be?"  
  
Giles spoke. "I would like to know how we went so terribly wrong, how we didn't know you were hurting so badly..."  
  
The demon laughed. "Wouldn't you, Mr. Giles. Wouldn't you? Sigh. I'm sorry, Mr. Giles, but your contributions, significant as they were, were not responsible for Miss Rosenberg's destruction. Her path was foreordained. From birth, you might say. But let's see, I'm sure I can give you a decent summary of what you want to know, while I look for the special passage I want."  
  
"Let's see," searched the demon, "here we have lots of feelings or jealousy and shame over the way she was treated in school, lots of desire for bloody revenge - my, that girl was creative, even if she wasn't real - and sigh, lots of guilt over her dark impulses. But that's pretty typical. So let's move on."  
  
"Hmm," searched the demon, "here's something a bit more interesting - Miss Rosenberg's school girl crush on Mr. Giles, feelings of jealousy towards Ms. Calendar, desire for bloody vengeance against Ms. Calendar, guilt towards said dark impulses, scratch that, rivers of guilt once Ms. Calendar bought it - my, what did that girl see in such a lout like you, Mr. Giles? But again, this all pretty typical. Let's move on."  
  
Giles blushed. "Willow," he said, softly.  
  
Giles promptly doubled over from an invisible punch to his stomach. The demon laughed. "Mr. Giles, you had your shot, and you wasted it. A very long time ago. Some people never learn. And, we really are on a very tight schedule today. Let's move on."  
  
"Now," searched the demon. "Willow's loves. Half a forest fell to her musings on Oz, and another half fell to her desires for bloody revenge after he left, and, not surprisingly, her guilt about those desires. And as for Tara - well, she took up several forests. Not that she didn't deserve it." The demon looked down, but only for a second.  
  
"Moving on," said the demon quickly. "Willow's best friend, Buffy. Lots of adoration for Super Buff. Also lots of jealousy, especially when she had to be rescued all the time. Lots of wishing that she was Super Buffy, or that she could at least rescue Super Buffy once in a while. Lots of 'I miss her so much' and yup, more guilt after Buffy died. Lots of self- satisfaction when she brought Buffy back - Willow Rosenberg finally got her wish to rescue Super Buffy. Cascades of guilt when she found out Buffy had been in heaven instead of a hell dimension - not many brownie points for 'rescuing' somebody from paradise, after all. Plus great disbelief. For reference, class, I doubt that Buffy was really in heaven, for reasons that are outside of Sunnydale's approved curriculum. But, moving on..."  
  
Dawn burst in. "What do you mean by that? You're lying - you can't deal with the fact that you pulled her out of heaven..."  
  
Good Willow suddenly screamed, and the demon doubled over. Dawn slumped over from an invisible jab to her stomach. "I... did not... pull Elizabeth Summers out of heaven," said the demon. "Mind your manners, little girl."  
  
Dawn dutifully filed the demon's reaction into the back of her mind.  
  
"More on Buffy," said the demon quickly. "Oh, ho, ho, here we go! Willow's secret attraction - and dare I say, it, forbidden love? - for her best friend. Willow's secret jealousy that Buffy never returned her attraction. Willow's guilt over her ongoing attraction to Super Buffy, even during her relationships with Oz and Tara. Willow's imagining..." The demon trailed off, as Good Willow let out an ear-splitting scream.  
  
Dawn gaped at these revelations, although secretly she was not surprised. Giles's expression revealed no emotion.  
  
"Good Willow is correct. Such content has not been approved by the Sunnydale school board. Moving on - to Willow's feelings about being a Slayerette. Oh, she so loved taking out her aggressions on vamps and demons, and so hated how she felt about her naughty, evil impulses afterwards. But, she did feel she was fighting the good fight, especially with the nasty demons. People good, demons bad, eh, Mr. Giles? I personally find that ironic." The demon grinned.  
  
Giles nodded, and drooped his head.  
  
"Rolling on," searched the demon. "I'm getting closer. Oh, here we go. Another forest fell to Willow Rosenberg's discussion of the Key. The results of her secret studies. She learned a lot about the creation of the Key, and the truth about the creation of you, Dawnie. Lots of fascinating stuff, there. Especially towards the end."  
  
Dawn leaned forward attentively.  
  
"But, we will not have time to cover that material in this lesson."  
  
Dawn sighed disappointedly.  
  
"Oh, getting very close now," said the demon. "Another vast tract of timber fell to Willow's feelings for her parents. Her mom and dad. Her love for them, which she felt went so unrequited. Her endless feelings of inadequacy over her belief that her own parents didn't love her, or even seem to recognize her existence, especially in her later teenage years. Why, it took her mother five months to realize that she was coming home with scratches and bruises on a regular basis after hanging out with 'Bunny.' And we haven't even begin to get into college. Especially when Miss Rosenberg last visited her parents, and discovered that they barely recognized her."  
  
Dawn gasped. "But Willow, that can't be. I can't imagine your parents not recognizing you. I mean..."  
  
"No buts, Dawnie," grinned the demon. "Because then, Willow realized why her parents were losing their memories of her. And that brings me," searched the demon, "to exactly what I've been looking for. Not that it's hard to miss. If Willow Rosenberg sacrificed forests for Oz and her love Tara, she wasted Yellowstone over this. Her dark, hidden, evil little secret. A secret so awful she couldn't admit even to herself, much less to Daddy, Dawnie, or any of her other closest friends and loves."  
  
Giles's eyes widened. The demon nodded.  
  
"The references start early. Even at a very young age, Willow Rosenberg began to realize that there was something 'icky' about her, and that weird things she couldn't explain kept happening to her. It was one of the primary reasons why she threw herself into academics. The references pick up the pace through Miss Rosenberg's teenage years, and become a torrent during her Slayerette years. And as we get towards the end - well, she must have been Weyerhauser's number one customer. So there's just so much to choose from. But, there's one passage in particular I want you to hear. it sounds so good when read aloud. if I can just remember where it is. Of course, how could I be so forgetful?" The demon made a show of smacking her forehead. "It's on the last page."  
  
"And now, class, an excerpt from Willow Rosenberg's secret diary."  
  
--- The darkness swirls throughout my body, coursing ceaselessly throughout my veins. It is getting worse every day, and my nights are now complete torment. I want to release it, let it out, set it free. I can't. I feel I like I am being eaten alive. I wish I would be eaten alive - it would take it all away. And I would be so relieved...  
  
"No, Willow," I scream to myself. "It's just symptoms of your ongoing addiction to dark magic. You noble, recovering addict, you! Just suffer some more, and soon you'll be back to your old reliable, normal, ordinary self. Why, you'll even have her again." I am lying to myself, again. It doesn't work. Nothing does.  
  
The alternative is to face the truth. I wasn't drawn to Rack and his magical happies. That dirty pusher was drawn to me, to the darkness radiating out of my cursed body, like some kind of junkie moth. I follow the insect right to the heart of the matter - my heart of darkness.  
  
No. I have to stop thinking about it. I must be strong, if only for her. Maybe I can dream about her, see her before me, feel her, make it almost real.  
  
I hear footsteps on the stairs. I can sense her. My love, my light is coming to me. At last - I will be happy, in her arms, if only for a little while. Maybe I will tell her. Maybe I will let her know the truth about me.  
  
Yeah, right. And then she will hate me forever, spitting out my name in disgust. After all, I know exactly what her family taught her to think about demons. Just like they'll all hate me. Just as much as I hate myself.  
  
But now she's here. I feel her emotions and know the miracle has really happened. For a while, I can just be with her. I will press her to me, and give her all my love. I will cling to my light like never before. She is the only light I have left. ---  
  
"And that passage," said Demon Willow, "was the last thing that Miss Rosenberg ever wrote. Pity Miss Rosenberg, if you can. Her light went out the next morning, and so did she." The demon let out a mock sob.  
  
"I don't understand, Willow," said Giles, softly. "What was it that you were so afraid to tell us?"  
  
Good Willow suddenly awakened and screamed as the demon doubled over in pain. "NO! You can't tell them! Oh Goddess, it's so terrible, so horrible, so evil, who I really am..." Good Willow trailed off, and fell back into her soft weeping.  
  
The demon quickly stretched and laughed. "And if that sobbing disgrace manages to keep her energy up for just a little while longer, I might be forcibly persuaded to keep it a dark and terrible secret. Forget that, you might not be trapped here. But she can't." Good Willow let out a terrible sob, but otherwise did nothing. Demon Willow grinned and began stroking her breastbone.  
  
"You see, class, it was all about the power. For most of her pathetic little life, Willow Rosenberg felt powerless and worthless. She had what the Sunnydale school board would call a serious self-esteem problem. She felt the same even after she became a Slayerette. Having to be rescued all the time does bad things to one's ego. She wanted to be powerful. She wanted to be special. Using magic gave her both."  
  
Giles sighed. "Willow - but you were always special to us. You were so special to me. Now I understand why you became addicted. But now the secret is out, there's help for you - come back to us."  
  
Dawn nodded.  
  
The demon let out a horrible laugh. "Oh, come back to us, Willow! Be good 12-step Willow. You still don't understand. It was about the power, not about the magic. Dark magic is not physically addictive. I admit, once Willow Rosenberg got mixed up with Pusher Rack, she became quite the junky. But that's because the bad boy was mixing his mana with concentrated heroin. Really. I - well she, but I remember - went through the withdrawal."  
  
Dawn gasped. "But then, it wasn't the magic - it was the power that addicted you."  
  
The demon sighed. "Close, Miss Summers. But not quite there. Oh, Miss Rosenberg loved the power from her wide-ranging magical activities. Craved it. Let it boost her ego, especially when her abilities started racing ahead far faster than should have been possible. Maybe, got a bit dependent on it - okay, maybe a lot dependent. Maybe even abused it a little - okay, a lot. But she nobly gave it all up to win back her friends and her love. She became recovering, sworn-off addictive magic forever Willow. But hey, there was a kind of power in that too, you know? I said you weren't that far off, Miss Summers."  
  
"But, the harder Miss Rosenberg tried to give up the power, the harder it stuck to her. It just wouldn't go away, almost as if it was a part of her." The demon grinned at this. "And then, slowly, the awful truth began to emerge."  
  
"Pity poor Miss Rosenberg, if you can. She secretly knew the truth, had known it for years, but could always run from it. Then she reached the point of no return, but still she kept running. From you, from her friends, but most of all from herself. She could not succeed."  
  
"Willow," Giles voice cracked. "Dear God, why did you hide this secret from us? And what is it? Please, tell us..." his voice trailed off.  
  
Good Willow shrieked off to the side. The demon briefly doubled over, but then smiled. "Mr. Giles, I am pleased to see that you are finally providing the common courtesies which the Sunnydale School Board expects. So I will tell you our dark little secret, even though I am amazed you have not realized it already. But then, you always did see what you wanted to see, and heard what you wanted to hear. That's what made it so easy for Willow Rosenberg to fool you and all of her Slayerette friends."  
  
Another rumbling came from the side wall, louder than before. Demon Willow began rubbing her breastbone forcefully.  
  
"Oh, but I am taking up too much time. Anyway," smiled the demon, proudly, "all Willow Rosenberg wanted was to be powerful and special. Well, she got her wish. Beyond all possible imagination - and beyond all hope. Let's get to the heart of the matter, shall we?"  
  
The demon drove its claws into its chest. Black blood poured out of the wound. The demon began to pull, and Dawn jerked her eyes away. She heard a terrible ripping sound.  
  
"Look at me, students!" yelled Demon Willow.  
  
Dawn slowly opened her eyes. The demon had somehow swung open her rib cage, exposing her heart and lungs. Dawn forced herself not to gag, and concentrated on the now exposed organs. She slowly realized that the demon's heart looked nothing like what she had seen in biology class. Instead, it looked like the demon's heart had been doubled. There were four chambers in an upper section, just like she remembered, but there were another four chambers in a bottom section, pumping blood into a second aorta that seemed to head directly for the demon's lower half.  
  
Giles gasped. "This can't be, Willow," he said. "Humans don't have that configuration, and neither do most demons. Only the most powerful..."  
  
"That's right, students," interrupted Demon Willow. This is not the heart of a human - it's the heart of a demon. Mr. Giles is correct - only the most powerful classes of demons have a heart shaped like this. They're like the only ones that need that many magic horses under the hood, you know? You know how all young boys and girls secretly think they're monsters? In my case it's really true."  
  
Giles let out a cry, and put his head on his chest. A tear rolled down his cheek.  
  
"Finally see the 'whole bloody thing', huh, Daddy? That's right. Your precious redhead is a demon. And we aren't talking little orcs here. We're talking griffins and hydras. We're talking balrons. We may even be talking dragons."  
  
The demon seemed quite satisfied with herself, and closed her rib cage.  
  
"So now at last you see. Both of you. 'Demons bad, people good,' huh, Daddy? Guess what. Your perfect little witch is one of the biggest and baddest of them all. What will you do now, Mister Giles? What?"  
  
Giles put his face in hands. He slowly lifted his face, and mouthed the words, "I'm so sorry." The demon only sneered in response.  
  
"But, Willow," said Dawn, softly. "I've met your parents. They aren't demons."  
  
The demon let out a terrible laugh. "Still hasn't sunk in, has it, Miss Summers?"  
  
From off to the side, Good Willow let a sharp sob. "They don't know what a terrible monster I am." she cried, and then drifted back into her own tears.  
  
"For once, the whiner is right," said the demon. "I'm adopted. I've known it practically since I can remember, since my parents never tried to hide it."  
  
Dawn was taken aback. "But..."  
  
"No buts, Miss Summers," said the demon. "Yeah, they kind of look like me a little, but come on. You'd think someone picked actors to play them. Nor would my conservative Jewish parents naturally have picked 'Willow' as a name for me. I came with that name from the adoption agency. When I was growing up, I often wondered who my real parents were, and why they abandoned me. Now I'm beginning to have a good idea."  
  
Dawn spoke up. "Wow. Okay, Willow, I know this must be hard for you. But, there are lots of good demons. Like Clem, for instance. He's cool, with his floppy ears and..."  
  
"Silence!" the demon roared. Good Willow sobbed off to the side. "I'm a monster, Dawnie. I so don't deserve..." she whispered, then trailed off.  
  
"I do appreciate your display of tolerance, Miss Summers. The Sunnydale School Board would certainly approve. Perhaps Mr. Giles will benefit, too. But we're on a tight schedule here, so it's time to move on. So far you've seen just a part of what's inside of me. There's something else you need to see, too."  
  
The demon waved her claws, and the other side wall of the classroom opened. The new space was filled with a large crystalline orb that gave off a sickly yellow glow. A black haze and clouds of black flecks swirled inside the orb. The surface of the orb was engraved with a series of strange runes and letters that Dawn did not understand. Worse, there were cracks in the orb that seemed to bleed a black sludge into a puddle on the floor of the new chamber. The puddle looked like it would soon overflow into the classroom.  
  
"Mr. Giles, do you recognize this object? You should," said the demon.  
  
Giles gasped. "No, it can't be."  
  
"But it is," cackled the demon. "This is the supposedly pure essence of magic you gave me. This is the magical device that was supposed to turn Real Willow back into Crying, Sniveling Willow, who would bow down and whine and beg before Daddy for all her sins. Guess what? The magical device was corrupted. Instead of getting Real Willow in touch with her sensitive side, it got Real Willow in touch with all the pain and suffering in the world."  
  
For the first time, Giles broke down. "Willow, I'm so sorry..."  
  
"Hello! Do I care anything about how you feel any more, Giles?" the demon snapped. "I don't think so. But take time away from your feeling sorry for yourself and look at the orb again. Look at the words engraved on its surface."  
  
Giles did. "These - these are instructions for raising that demonic temple, and..."  
  
"That's right," cackled the demon. "Look's like Real Willow wasn't planning on ending the world, after all. Someone in your precious trusted coven decided to use me for that purpose. And you were the perfect trusting delivery boy."  
  
Giles sobbed.  
  
"Yes. Now we're seeing some real education, Mr. Giles. I said I had only two to go when you first showed up in Sunnydale. Okay, I didn't tell you the whole truth. I had four to go - Andrew, Jonathan, Dawnie, and of course, me."  
  
Dawn was taken aback. "Why me?" she shrieked.  
  
"You'll just have to find out in one of our next lessons, won't you, Miss Summers? Well, okay, it might have been five or six to go by the time I was done, between Super Buffy and Daddy's attempts to show their 'tough love' for me by trying to kick my ass. But they weren't in my plan. No, it took Daddy and his witch friends to turn me from a bad girl into the herald of the apocalypse. I hope you're really proud, Mr. Giles. With your help, your little girl almost did really, really well for herself." The demon laughed.  
  
Giles wiped a tear off of his cheek. "I am so sorry, Willow. But I swear I never meant to hurt you. I only wanted to help you - I love you. We need to go now. We need to find out who in the coven tried to use you - us. And, that leakage out of the essence - Willow, you have to seal it off."  
  
"Oh, Daddy, I love you so much, too. I'll so go save the world now," the demon sneered. "What a load of crap. It's too late for that, Mr. Giles. Way past too late. But, you have become very observant. You're so right about that leakage. That black goo is pure malignant energy, poisoning my veins at this very instant. The muck has already reached levels high enough to bring you and Dawnie here. And, there's a really cool feedback loop kicking in. Soon, the orb will explode, releasing all of its energy into my body. I'll awaken immediately, finally breaking through Crybaby Willow's protective barrier. I'll kill everyone around me, including you. Then I'll destroy the world, which I know from personal experience will be quite a favor. And that, at last, will be the end. Isn't that nice?" The demon grinned.  
  
Giles spoke softly, his voice cracking from defeat. "Willow, no. You can't let this happen. You have to stop it. You can seal the orb off - you almost did before. Please."  
  
Good Willow released a loud sob, but was otherwise unresponsive.  
  
The demon laughed. "Oh 'please, please save the world, temporarily-bad little girl.' How pathetic. Willow Rosenberg is long gone. I'm an evil monster who craves killing and destruction, Mr. Giles. Get it through your thick head."  
  
Giles froze. He looked over at the crying Willow, and looked back towards the demon. His eyes slowly widened. "You're right, demon. You're not Willow. I have no choice. I pray it is the right one." The ex-Watcher leaped out of his desk and threw himself towards Demon Willow.  
  
Giles was stopped in mid-lunge, frozen in mid-air. "Oh come on," laughed Demon Willow. "Don't you ever learn anything?" She waved her arms, and Giles was blown back into the stone table, barely missing Good Willow. The table fell back onto its four legs with a loud bang. Giles fell to the floor, grimacing in pain. Good Willow did not seem to notice.  
  
"Thirty points deducted from Uppity House. You need a time out, Mr. Giles," said the demon, in its most condescending tone. Giles immediately began writhing in pain. He repeatedly tried to disbelieve the pain, but to no avail. "It's a repeating pain spell, Mr. Giles. It will remain in place until I say otherwise."  
  
Dawn scurried over to Giles. "Giles," she said. "Um... we, like, tried to deal with Dark Willow the last time by kicking her ass, and it totally didn't work."  
  
Giles nodded. Painfully.  
  
"Instead," whispered Dawn, "Xander said he was finally able to reach her by reminding her of the 'time she broke the yellow crayon' in kindergarten..."  
  
Suddenly, Dawn was jerked back into her desk. "Come on, Miss Summers," the demon sneered. "You're not using good critical thinking!"  
  
With that, Demonic Willow wrote on the board: "LESSON THE FOURTH: A BRIEF LESSON. THAT STUPID CRAYON STORY WON'T WORK. IT DIDN'T WORK THE LAST TIME. 'GOOD WILLOW' JUST WOKE UP TO THE FACT THAT SHE DIDN'T WANT THE ONLY 'FRIEND' WHO WASN'T TRYING TO KICK HER ASS TO DIE, SO SHE THREW ME. IT WON'T HAPPEN AGAIN. MISS MASOCHIST IS TOO CONSUMED WITH HER OWN SUFFERING. BESIDES, THAT DAMN CRAYON WAS BLUE, NOT YELLOW."  
  
Dawn slumped in her desk.  
  
"Any questions, class? Didn't think so."  
  
With that, Demonic Willow wrote on the board: "LESSON THE FIFTH: WHY MISS SUMMERS MUST GO BACK TO BEING A GREEN BALL OF ENERGY."  
  
Dawn suppressed a scream.  
  
* * *  
  
To be continued in chapter 5. 


	5. Understood

5. Understood  
  
"No," said Dawn. "I am Dawn Summers. I may have been the Key for a while, but that's over, and now I'm a normal human." She gritted her teeth. "Okay, maybe I can slay vampires, too. But I am a person."  
  
The demon burst out laughing. "Oh, look at me, I'm Dawn, I'm real! I'm real! Don't leave me, I'm real!" She leaned over. "Are you sure you're real, Dawn?"  
  
The demon raised its claws - and Dawn suddenly found her arms, head and legs connected to marionette wires.  
  
"I'm not so sure you're real," said the Demon. "Maybe you're just a little puppet."  
  
"I am! I am real! I'm sure of it!" shouted Dawn. Dawn felt a strange sensation - and saw that her nose had grown six inches from her face.  
  
The demon laughed. "You lie. Dishonesty is strictly punished by the Sunnydale School Board, Miss Summers. You're not sure at all. That's why you've been such a clingy and whiny little brat. You're afraid that one day all your friends and family will leave you, and they'll forget all about you, and you'll go back to being a mindless ball of green energy."  
  
"No! It's not true!" yelled Dawn. Dawn's nose grew another six inches, and small leaves appeared on the end.  
  
The demon laughed louder. "You don't learn, do you Dawn? I say you're not real. I say one day you'll just disappear. No one will love you, Dawnie. No one will even remember you. No one will be left to think about Dawn the puppet, Dawn the robot, Dawnie the whiny, clingy, fake green energy ball."  
  
Dawn sobbed. In that instant, she could feel her mind beginning to dissolve, and she saw her arms begin to glow green.  
  
"No!" screamed Good Willow, for once. "Don't believe her, Dawn. You are real! You do have a soul! You are human! I'm so sorry, Dawn..." and with that, Good Willow returned to her weeping.  
  
Dawn snapped out of her despair. The wires were gone, and her nose was back to normal.  
  
The demon doubled over, but soon recovered. "Well, once again, you and Miss Masochist have managed to exceed my expectations. Bother. Oh, well. I guess I'll just have to tell you the truth, Dawnie. The first part is - yes, you're real. A human soul and the whole bit. But do you really want to know the second part, Dawnie? The truth about who you really are? Because, little girl, the second you know the truth is the second you'll want Oblivion. Just like me."  
  
Dawn took a deep breath. "You're wrong. I don't care what my ancestry is. The only thing that matters is that I'm human. I've already won. Now seal off that corrupt magical essence thing and let us go."  
  
The demon laughed. "We'll see how much you've won in a few seconds, little girl. And now, let's have another Story Time. Once, a long time ago, but in a land not too far from here, there was a group of 'holy clerics' who secretly lived in sin. Their sin was that they craved power - not to use, but to admire. One day, several hundred years ago, they acquired the most beautiful and most awesome power of all - the Key. By the way, Dawnie, the Key has a real name, but it's in an arcane demonic language, and the mere whisper of it would shatter your eardrums. But I digress. Anyway, for hundreds of years they stood in awe of the Key and its emerald-shining, magical coolness. Then, one day, a big bad hell goddess showed up, and wanted to use the Key for something other than a kinetic installation. Instead, the goddess just wanted to go home. Unfortunately, besides dressing badly, this big bad hell goddess was as sharp as a marble, and the only way she knew how to use the Key might have destroyed the universe. The clerics couldn't help her use the Key correctly, because they were art collectors, not real magicians. So, the clerics, who collectively were sharp as several marbles, rubbed some blues and greens and sparklies together and got the brilliant idea to have the Slayer protect the Key. Wanting the Slayer to protect the Key with her life, they decided to turn her into a sister - none other than little Dawnie Summers."  
  
Dawn burst in. "Like I didn't know this already."  
  
"Yeah, you know that part of the story. But here comes the good part - for me. Are you sure you want me to continue?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Yes, what?"  
  
"Yes, PLEASE!"  
  
"As you wish. To make the Key into a real person, the clerics, being a bunch of art critics, couldn't just build a SisterBot. No, they needed to make her a real person. To do that, they needed the DNA of two people, which they then combined, with the power of the Key, to make you. Think of yourself as a magical test-tube baby, but made in a big ball of green energy rather than a test tube."  
  
"Yeah, great, so it's weird, but I'm real, so what?"  
  
"Who do you think your 'parents' are, Dawnie?"  
  
"Mom and Dad. Who else?"  
  
The demon leaned over, as if moving in for the kill. "You are, like, so wrong."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"They wanted a sister with a little strength, some abilities beyond the norm in case things got messy, which they did. Too bad you didn't start using them until a month ago. Anyway, your real mother is not Joyce Summers. Instead..."  
  
"Buffy," Dawn whispered.  
  
"That's right. Super Buffy is your real mom. Kind of explains the whole maternal thing, don't you think?"  
  
Dawn nodded.  
  
"But wait, it gets better. Your other parent isn't your Dad. I mean, he was out of the country. And since this is magical mojo, they didn't even need a male to be the other donor."  
  
Dawn's mind reeled as she began to realize what the Demon meant.  
  
"That's right, Dawnie. Very good. The clerics used the DNA of Buffy's best friend, Willow Rosenberg. I am your other parent, Dawn."  
  
Dawn gasped. A flood of thoughts and emotions filled her mind.  
  
"And now, you know. And we have just about come to the end of our school day. Your homework is canceled, since you won't be around for it anyway. I'm sure you're going to beg me to turn you back into a green energy ball. I can't wait."  
  
"Because, you sweet little girl, how could anyone in their right mind want to be based on me?"  
  
The demon gave a smile. Not a grin of triumph, but a sad smile of total defeat. In it, and in her eyes, Dawn saw the depths of the demon's self loathing. [No,] thought Dawn, [Willow's self loathing.]  
  
And the young Miss Summers understood. She thought for a few seconds, then spoke, softly at first, but growing ever stronger.  
  
"No. You're wrong. You're not an evil thing. You're Willow. I love you, Willow. Just as strongly as Xander did when he reminded you about the yellow, I mean blue, crayon..."  
  
The demon let out a terrible roar. Dawn flew out of her seat and crashed into the wall. She doubled over in pain as a sheet of masonry blasted by the impact fell on her. [Disbelieve,] she barely managed to think. The masonry and most of the pain was gone.  
  
Giles slowly, agonizingly crawled over to her and whispered in her ear. "Dawn... I understand now. The impact of what happened split her mind into two pieces, one all conscience and love, and one all wretchedness and hate."  
  
[You just figured out that Willow's mind was split into two pieces? Really, Giles? Duh. Clearly we have some clueless people with us today,] thought Dawn.  
  
"The bad piece can't possibly feel love," continued Giles. "Your only hope is with the good Willow."  
  
Dawn's heart sank. "Are you sure? I think I'm so close to reaching the demonic piece..."  
  
The demon let out another terrible roar. Dawn barely managed to disbelieve a half-wall of masonry crashing down on her.  
  
"Yes, I'm sure," said Giles.  
  
Dawn looked over at the stone table and her heart sank. "You want me to try to reach the crying, whiny Willow with the knife in her chest? But she's useless - she hardly seems to know we're here. I mean, okay, I've been too whiny and clingy myself, but, God, Giles..."  
  
Giles cut her off. "The good Willow is consumed with guilt and sorrow over what's happened, Dawn. She has no real strength of her own, since inner strength and courage come from transforming the darker parts of ones psyche."  
  
Dawn's eyes grew wide. "Like that Star Trek episode?" whispered Dawn.  
  
Giles thought for a second, then remembered. "Yes, Dawn. 'The Enemy Within.' Just like that."  
  
"But we don't have a transporter beam to put them back together," whined Dawn.  
  
Giles managed to smile at that. "No, Dawn. You have to get the Good Willow to draw on the power of the evil Willow, and eventually get the good one to drain the bad one altogether. That should put Willow back together."  
  
"But how? Can't you help?"  
  
"No, Dawn. You're the only who can do it. You're - you heard them, you're her daughter, Dawn. I'm not - she either sees me as a surrogate father or a first crush, which isn't going to be enough of a connection. Children have certain powers over their parents. Use them mercilessly. Now go."  
  
Dawn looked over and saw Demonic Willow writing on the board: "LESSON THE SIXTH AND FINAL: YOU CANNOT DEFEAT ME. WE ARE ALL ABOUT TO DIE. ISN'T THAT NICE? DISCUSS."  
  
Dawn quietly got up, and walked over to the stone table. She crawled onto the table, lay down next to the still weeping Willow, and put her arms around her.  
  
The demon Willow looked at her. "Ah, how adorable. The two of you will die all cuddly together," she sneered. Other than that, the demon paid no attention to Dawn and Good Willow.  
  
"Hey, it's me," whispered Dawn.  
  
Willow interrupted her tears to look at Dawn. "Hi, Dawnie. What are you still doing here?" she said.  
  
"You know perfectly well," said Dawn.  
  
Willow sobbed. "I know, Dawn. It's all my fault. I'm so sorry, I'm so evil..." she whispered, and began sobbing again.  
  
[Uh, uh. Not this time,] thought Dawn.  
  
"No. Get up. You have to rescue us. You have to fix the bad-emotions essence thing."  
  
"Oh, Dawnie, I can't. I'm powerless, I'm evil, I'm bad, I'm past all hope..."  
  
"Uh. Oh. Whine. Help me. Wah!" Dawn sneered. "You're worse than I ever was. You're pathetic. You're just lying here feeling sorry for yourself with a rock through your chest, and meanwhile we're all suffering and dying here. Get up and help us."  
  
"Oh, I am, I am so pathetic, and evil, Dawnie. I so don't deserve to have a daughter like you..." She drifted off again.  
  
Dawn had an idea. "You're right. You don't. Because I know the truth. You don't love me. You hate me."  
  
Good Willow's eyes flew open. "No. That's not true, Dawnie. I love you."  
  
"Bullshit. If you loved me you wouldn't be whining about how miserable you are. You'd be saving us. I say it again. You... hate... me."  
  
"No!" Good Willow yelled. The demon bent over slightly, and seemed to be greatly surprised. "I love you, Dawn! I love you so much!"  
  
[Now we're getting somewhere,] thought Dawn. "No. I don't believe you. If you really loved me - not just said you did - you'd be all over that ugly thing. You'd kick every square inch of its hairy ass. No, you hate me. And you hate Giles, and Buffy, and Xander, ... and you even hate Tara..."  
  
"Watch your mouth, Dawn!" Good Willow threw herself up from table, breaking the ropes. [She finally looks pissed,] thought Dawn. The demon doubled over in pain.  
  
"Oh yeah, getting all maternal now are we? Hmm? You love me, prove it. Prove it now. Get up."  
  
Good Willow glared at her. But she sat up. Slowly, agonizingly, but she sat up.  
  
"You love me? You love us? Well, we've all got to live if you're going to love us. Now, start with pulling that knife out of your chest. It's blasphemous, and you know it."  
  
Good Willow slowly pulled the knife out of her chest. Dawn gasped to see it covered with blood. But, the now knife-free witch waved her hands, and the blood was gone.  
  
"Now. Drain the Bad Willow."  
  
"I... can't."  
  
"No cant's. Do it, or we all die. And you prove that you put your own self-pity over your love for us."  
  
Good Willow gasped, loudly. She slowly raised her hand towards the demon. The demon dropped to the floor, but not before raising its claws. Deep gashes appeared on Willow's face and neck, and Willow collapsed on the table.  
  
"It... hurts..." gasped Good Willow.  
  
"Yes it does. But sometimes life sucks. Do it."  
  
Good Willow stood up again, and raised her hand towards the demon. The demon raised its claws again, and black blood began oozing out of Good Willow's gashes. Good Willow cried out, but remained standing. The demon began writhing.  
  
"That's it, that's it! You've got to want it. Want it more than anything."  
  
The demon rolled over and slowly spoke. "You... cannot defeat me. I'm still incredibly powerful. I will have my revenge. I will destroy you... all..."  
  
Giles sat up, pain spell ebbing from his body. "Why, demon? The thing you want most of all is your own oblivion. And now we're giving it to you."  
  
"But," the demon trailed off, "I can't let you defeat me."  
  
"Why?" asked Giles. "What do you care about us? What do you care about anything beyond your own destruction? Why wait around a second longer than you have to?"  
  
The demon seemed to think for a second, then let out a final whisper. "Thank you, Mr. Giles. You always were... like a father to me."  
  
The demon began to visibly waver. Dawn looked back towards Good Willow, whose eyes were now glowing a brilliant emerald green. Good Willow briefly turned towards Giles, staring at him without expression for a few seconds. She turned her head towards Dawn, and did the same. The witch then slowly turned her head towards the now-translucent demon. The demon let out a last feeble howl.  
  
Good Willow dropped her head, staring at her own body. She brought one of her hands up to her chest, and began slowly rubbing her breastbone, just as the demon had done. Dawn felt her heart rising in her chest.  
  
[Please, Willow, finish it,] thought Dawn. [I love you, it's okay - but please...]  
  
Good Willow's hand dropped, and she snapped her head forward.  
  
"Bored now," said the witch.  
  
There was a massive blast. Chalkboard, table, desks, walls, and whole world suddenly turned to dust, then went white. Then there was nothing.  
  
* * *  
  
To be continued in Chapter 6. 


	6. Fixed

6. Fixed  
  
A few seconds later, Dawn regained consciousness. Willow stood over her, now wearing what looked like an ordinary tan dress. A line of emerald scales extended from the back of one hand, went up her arm, and wrapped halfway around her neck. The same line continued down her other arm and ended on the back of the other hand, which held a glass-like object with a putrid, sickly glow.  
  
[The "bad feelings" essence,] Dawn realized.  
  
"Yeah, don't worry, I sealed it off," said Willow.  
  
"Your arms," said Dawn.  
  
"Yeah. I told you - well she - one of us, told you the truth. About me. I guess this is how it shows."  
  
"They're pretty. All green and shiny."  
  
"Thanks, Dawnie."  
  
Willow's eyes still glowed green, but less intensely before. Looking carefully, Dawn could see small black flecks amongst the green glow.  
  
"Yes, Dawn," Willow sighed, "she'll always be a part of me. But she'll never be able to separate and gain control again. Not that she really wants to."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
Giles rolled over, a look of pain on his face. "Oh, Willow, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you so badly. I ... just wanted to help you. I have so much to feel sorry for." he whispered.  
  
Willow looked back at him. "Yeah, I guess. But not as much I do, although right now I think we all need to be a little less sorry. We have things to do." She looked at both Giles and Dawn. "We can go now." Willow waved her hands. and suddenly a disembodied voice spoke.  
  
It took Dawn a second to realize the voice was Anya's. "Willow! You're back in one piece. Yay! Giles! Dawn! You're safe and not shot and not all crushed! Yay! Oh. But don't come out yet. I don't think it would be a good idea."  
  
"Hi, Anya. Good to be back. What's going on?" asked Willow.  
  
"Scan your surroundings," said Anya.  
  
So Willow did. "Oh, this is not good."  
  
"What is it?" asked Giles.  
  
"Uh - ten members of the coven, including who I guess is the Leader, you, and - Dawn, Xander, Anya and Buffy? Buffy looks really shaken. She's holding a stake and crying, Xander's holding her. Goddess, Anya, what happened?"  
  
"Well, Buffy and Xander found Dawn and got really freaked. They called me and Buffy cast a vengeance spell against you to teleport us all to England. We all got here just about the time the ugly part of you shot Dawn and Giles. Buffy screamed and charged you with the stake. It took all of us to subdue her, and get it into her that killing you would definitely kill Dawn and Giles. Then Giles and Dawn got back up, and Buffy collapsed. She's been inconsolable ever since. But there's more. Keep scanning."  
  
Willow's mind reeled. [Goddess, more casualties from my reign of terror. I'm so evil...] She sobbed mentally, and could feel her mind sink into the guilt and pain - and then pulled back. [No. Not now. Rack your brains, Willow, don't let them rack them for you. You have to be strong.]  
  
Willow kept scanning. "Giles - there are five of who look like well- dressed English gentlemen with what look like high-powered rifles. Are they your friends?"  
  
"Dear God. The Council's wetworks boys. They must be here to..."  
  
"Kill me?" finished Willow.  
  
"Yes - The understanding was that would use them if you woke up and were still insanely evil, and the whispers were that they might use them if you woke up at all."  
  
"Understandable. After all, I did try to end the world. Came real close, too. Have to take care of apocalyptic threats. Perfectly reasonable, I think."  
  
"No!" Dawn yelled. "After all we've been through - Giles, we can't let them kill her. Willow, please..."  
  
Willow interrupted her. "Five minutes ago, I would have welcomed death. Not anymore. I'm ... I did terrible things, but I'm not going to let myself die for something I didn't do. Besides, someone corrupted this supposedly pure magical essence, and whoever they are is a terrible threat to the whole world."  
  
Giles inwardly smiled. [She just might make it after all,] he thought. "I agree," said Giles, "although I'm not sure what to do."  
  
Dawn spoke up. "I have an idea. Giles, they won't kill her as long as I'm here, right? You go out first and do whatever you can to protect her, get them to listen. Then Willow comes out and tells them about the bad magical mojo. Then I come out once it's all clear."  
  
"Yes, but Dawn, are you sure?" said Willow.  
  
"I trust you, Willow. At least now I do."  
  
Willow smiled slightly. [I so don't deserve this,] she thought. [But she is right.]  
  
"Okay," said Willow. "We need to go now. Giles, you first. Don't worry about us. We will be able to see and hear everything."  
  
* * *  
  
There was a sudden shock, and Giles suddenly found himself retching black goo in a brick chamber. Commotion swirled around him, and he thought he heard rifles being cocked. He had only an instant to pull away from the hands grasping him and throw himself on Willow's body.  
  
"Stop!" he bellowed. "I won't you let do this. She is innocent of attempting to destroy the world. She herself can prove her innocence, but she must be allowed to speak."  
  
One of the wetworks boys sneered. "Mister Rupert Giles, please. Have you completely lost any sense of your responsibilities as a Watcher? Don't you know who and what she is?"  
  
"Listen, you arrogant fools. I've just spent hours understanding who and what she is. More than you can possibly understand. She must be allowed to speak. Otherwise, you will have to shoot through me - and the Slayer's sister, Dawn Summers."  
  
"Listen to yourself," sneered the speaker. "Even now she has taken a hostage."  
  
"No she hasn't," said Anya. "I can sense it. Dawn is staying voluntarily. She says - she is willing to give her life to protect Willow."  
  
Buffy gasped. "If that's what Dawn says... damn it, let her have her chance."  
  
"Put down your weapons. Now!" yelled Giles.  
  
The Council's "fixers" did not move.  
  
"Hey. Are you all deaf? He said put down the rifles. Put them down." Buffy glared at the musketeers. "Now. Or I will put them down for you."  
  
The Council's agents slowly put down their weapons. "Walk away from the rifles," demanded Giles. They did.  
  
* * *  
  
"It's safe now," said the disembodied voice of Anya.  
  
"Are you sure about this, Willow?"  
  
"Yeah. As sure as we can be. In any case, I'll do whatever I can to protect you. And Dawn..."  
  
"Don't you dare apologize to me, Willow."  
  
Willow smiled weakly. "Um. Well in that case, I just want to say this - once I reemerge, all hell could break loose. I might not to get to see you again for a few months, if at all. If that happens, remember that I love you. Always. Even if I seemed to forget for a while."  
  
Dawn smiled.  
  
"And Dawn," Willow said, "you should be very proud. You defeated who I, um, think is a very powerful demon. In that demon's own mind. I don't think even Super Buffy can say that. Just don't get cocky, okay?"  
  
Dawn smiled more broadly. "Go. They're waiting."  
  
There was a flash, and Willow was gone. Then, Dawn could see and hear through Willow's eyes and ears.  
  
* * *  
  
There was a sharp shock, and Willow suddenly found herself retching black goo in a brick-walled chamber. She opened her eyes and stared right at the Council's "cleaning crew," who were eyeing their implements intently.  
  
"Don't even think about it," said Buffy.  
  
Willow vomited again and again, bringing up a puddle of dark ink. Soon, a glow appeared in her throat. With one final retching, a small glowing orb appeared in the puddle. It gleamed with a sickly yellow glow, and dark flecks floated throughout it. Incomprehensible symbols glowed from its surface. Willow picked up the orb. The members of the coven moved closer.  
  
Willow managed to sit up, and speak slowly. "Leader and members of this coven, this orb, this magical essence... was not pure. You see that it was corrupted, giving me not pure magic but pure pain. And. inscribed in this orb are instructions on how to end that pain by destroying the world through raising that demonic temple. I... could not have known how to do that otherwise."  
  
The Leader moved forward. "You lie," she sneered. The Council's musketeers dived for their weapons.  
  
"No!" yelled one of the adepts. "Leader, she speaks the truth. Look at it. Feel it. It as she says. Somehow our work was compromised. We must find the traitor!"  
  
Even the talkative musketeer spoke up. "The witch is telling the truth. It is obvious, even to me."  
  
"You all lie," said the leader. "She must have broken the device somehow. The power of the coven cannot be corrupted."  
  
"You..." Willow pointed at the Leader. "You made this."  
  
The Leader was taken aback.  
  
"You can't deny it. Your aura is the same as the maker of this orb. There are no other auras on this device."  
  
"No," said the Leader. "She's lying."  
  
"No, she's telling the truth," said the adept. "You were the crafter for this orb. You said - you said you needed complete control over the crafting of such a powerful device, to make sure it worked properly."  
  
Giles, the musketeers, and all the members of the coven murmured in agreement with the adept. The musketeers picked up their weapons, and leveled them at the Leader.  
  
"You... you used me," whispered Willow. "You tried to use me to burn the world. And... oh Goddess, did you kill her? Did you kill my love, too? Who are you serving? Who?"  
  
The adepts looked shocked. The talkative musketeer finally spoke. "Leader, on the authority of the Council we are hereby placing you under our control, until such time as a proper inquiry can be held, and..."  
  
"Silence!" the Leader yelled. She closed her eyes and reopened jet-black orbs. There was a flash, and the Leader was enclosed in a dark energy field.  
  
[Guys, get ready to fight or run, depending...] Willow thought as loud as she could.  
  
"Oh, Willow, Willow, fighting won't be necessary. You see, I'm going to leave you now. You have won this round, thanks to that washed-up ex- Watcher and that little Sister Slayer bitch."  
  
Buffy gasped and lunged forward. [Don't...] Willow thought. [Buffy, that field is poisoned. Touching it would kill you.] Buffy stopped.  
  
"But, before I go, and before you can - what is it, 'go Dark Phoenix on me,' Miss Rosenberg, I will answer your questions. First, yes, I tried to use you to burn this pathetic little planet for my master. And it was so good to see you become mind-blowingly evil and writhe in pain like that - so good you can't possibly imagine. And it almost worked."  
  
"But it didn't," snapped Buffy.  
  
"Yeah," said Xander. "Almost only counts in horseshoes, hand grenades, and thermonuclear warfare. You lost."  
  
"That I did, hammer boy. Our loss. But second, as to my master - you'll meet my master soon enough. And third - no, I didn't kill your little whore, Willow. Someone else took care of that for us. At least I'll leave knowing even you can't bring her back. That we took something from you, something you can never have again."  
  
Willow gasped. "You..." she whispered.  
  
"Yes," the Leader grinned. "And now, it's time for me to go. But before I go, I have one last thing to say to you, Willow. We will stop at nothing to destroy your House."  
  
Before Willow or anyone else could say anything, the Leader let out an awful scream. Her body burst into a white-hot jet of flame. In only a few seconds, only a small cloud of floating ash remained.  
  
Willow could hear Dawn shriek in her mind, then stifle it. [It's okay, Dawn. It's okay... Goddess, Dawnie, you're still in here. I need to get you out. Goodbye, love.]  
  
With that, there was a sharp jerk, and Dawn suddenly found herself retching black goo in a brick-walled chamber. Buffy let out a cry and embraced her sister tightly.  
  
"Oh, God," cried Buffy. "I was so worried, so scared about you."  
  
"I know," said Dawn. "It was horrible. But it's over now. Finally over." Tears ran down her cheeks. She looked over towards the table, and saw Willow and Giles surrounded by a rapidly pulsating mob of adepts and Council agents. The mob seemed to be slowly moving Willow and Giles out of the chamber. The mob also seemed to be growing ever larger, with adepts and Council members streaming in continuously.  
  
One of the new arrivals saw Dawn and the group now embracing her. He rushed over to Dawn, brandishing a glowing orb. Dawn recognized him as none other than Quentin Travers, and grimaced.  
  
The senior Watcher gave the most earnest smile he could simulate. He held the orb over Dawn, and seemed reasonably happy with whatever information the orb was telling him. "Hello, Dawn. Good to see you. Not much worse for wear, I see."  
  
"Oh, she's in great shape," sneered Buffy.  
  
"Yes, better than you realize, Buffy," rushed Quentin, still wearing the plastered smile. "That means I need to send all of you back to Sunnydale now. Strictly confidential Council business, you understand. Be assured that Mr. Giles and Miss Rosenberg will be under our strictest protection. We will be in touch next week, Buffy, Dawn, for a full debriefing. All the best!"  
  
"No," said Dawn. "I need to be with her. You don't understand..." But before she could do anything, there was a flash, and she was back in her bedroom in Sunnydale. Buffy still held her tightly.  
  
"We need to go back," said Dawn. "They don't understand."  
  
Buffy pressed Dawn to her. "Dawn... I know the Council. They're the biggest bunch of stodgy bureaucrats I've ever met - it will take them weeks to decide what to about Willow, especially now. If anything. That will give us time to figure out what to do. What I want to do. What's best. And, I do want to hear about everything that happened, Dawn. Really. But now, you're home. And that's what's most important to me, right now." Tears streamed down both sisters' cheeks.  
  
Xander managed to work his way in from the side. "Hey, Dawn."  
  
"Xander..." Dawn temporarily pulled away from Buffy, and embraced her friend. Then she smiled broadly. "Xander, we are like so in the Saved the World Club!"  
  
* * *  
  
Giles and Willow scarcely had time to breathe for the next few hours, between the frantic interviews of the coven's members and the frantic queries of the Council of Watcher's investigators. Finally, Giles managed to convince the coven and Council that Willow would be allowed to stay in Giles's home for the time being, as Willow had managed to convince the coven and the Council that she was no longer a flight risk, a suicide risk, or an apocalypse risk. Council investigators escorted Giles and Willow to Giles's home, and a coven adept was left to guard Giles's front door. Four hours passed before Giles and Willow were able to have some time alone.  
  
Giles prepared some herbal tea, and poured Willow a cup. Willow managed to smile and mutter a "thank you."  
  
"How do you feel, Willow?" asked Giles.  
  
Willow looked up at him and weakly smiled. "I... suppose I should feel pretty good, Giles. The world's been saved yet again. A terrible threat to the planet has been partially unmasked and partially destroyed. All thanks to the amazing powers of the Scooby Gang. What can't we do when we're together?" She giggled, and picked up the teacup.  
  
"Willow," whispered Giles. He frowned.  
  
"What was it," whispered Willow, "that song we all sang? You know, with that stupid singing demon? After Buffy said she'd been in heaven? Something like: 'So now it's done, we sort of won, so we give our victory cheer... Where do we go from here?"  
  
"So you see Giles, I guess I feel fine... not any reason not to... not like I'm scared of myself, or like my love is dead, or like I killed anybody or tried to end the world, or anything... oh, Goddess..."  
  
The teacup fell to the floor, and shattered. Willow began sobbing. Giles quietly moved over to her and embraced her.  
  
"Willow," he whispered, "Yes, you did many terrible things. I know you miss Tara terribly - I do, too. But I love you, and I am proud of you. I know you can't see that right now, but I am. Now comes the hard part. It will take a long time, and a lot of effort, and a lot of pain to get better. But you can recover, Willow. I did. So can you. You have to believe."  
  
Willow said nothing other than her sobs. But, she did nod her head.  
  
* * *  
  
To be concluded in chapter 7. 


	7. Seeds

7. Seeds  
  
Buffy Summers:  
  
I got a letter from Willow today - a little box, more precisely. In that box was a brief note and a small glowing chain.  
  
"Wearing this chain will give you the complete sensation of everything Dawn saw and heard. Use it as you see fit. I should be back soon, after a final round of psychiatric tests. Miss you. All my love, Buffy. Willow."  
  
Oh, great. Dawn gets novels from Willow from a regular basis, and spends hours in the evening writing replies. I get barely a paragraph and a trinket that will show me everything I never want to think about again, much less see. Of course, that's a paragraph more than I've written my best friend.  
  
Not that I haven't heard everything about the whole experience. Initially, I was so afraid Dawn would be permanently scarred, unable to tell me anything. And, Dawn was scared and hurt. But, to my eternal relief, she was strengthened, too. She has had no problems telling me everything. In great detail. All the time.  
  
Willow - make that the two Willow pieces - God, this gets so confusing - was a greater threat to my sister than anyone has ever been, besides Glory. I still don't know what I'd do if Willow had maimed or killed my sister. But in the end, Willow gave my sister what she secretly wanted. Dawn now knows she's real, and she's a hero, too - just like Big Sis. The new hero is much less bratty and whiny, although if Dawn doesn't stop bragging about how she saved Giles and Good Willow, I'm going to stake her. I mean that in a loving way, of course.  
  
I come back to the note. God, she could at least say she's sorry. I mean, it might be nice. Then I remember what Dawn said about Good Willow, and I think twice. Maybe this chain is her apology. Maybe she trusts me to see what Dawn saw and understood. Dawn forgave Willow. Maybe I should, too.  
  
I don't know if I can. She - at least the monster version of her - hurt us beyond belief. She hurt me. I haven't been so betrayed by someone so close to me since - well, since Angel. She threatened my little sister. No one does that and lives to tell about it.  
  
Except me, of course.  
  
I don't know if I can forgive myself. She was in such danger. I see it now - in hindsight, all the hints were perfectly clear. But I didn't see it, not believing that anything could be really wrong with Old Reliable Willow, until it was too late. And then, when it happened, when she faced us - yes, she - or that part of her that had taken over - was a terrible threat who committed horrific crimes. Yes, I had to fight her. But I could have said I loved her, too. I could have tried to hold her and told her that I understood. Instead, all I tried to do was kick her ass. And it almost cost us everything.  
  
Xander, thank you. Again.  
  
And then for a few seconds, when the bad Willow shot Dawn - I became that evil monster. Everything I've ever feared I might become. Thank God my friends held me back.  
  
Maybe that's what I'm so afraid of. Why I can't face Willow. Because when I think of her, I realize that the monster could so easily have been me. The only difference was that the target was Tara, not Dawn.  
  
Maybe its time I stop running from my best friend. Maybe it's time to understand what happened to her, and who she really is. After all, we do have a child together.  
  
Maybe it's time to start understanding what it all means for me. Maybe it's time I stop running from myself.  
  
I lie down on my bed, take a deep breath, and slip the chain over my neck. Soon, I am through a whirlwind of screams and voices, and am in total blackness.  
  
"Play now?" a voice asks. Yes, Demon Willow. Sorry, make that yes, Bad Willow. Don't mean to be biased ever again. Play now. I'm ready.  
  
The blackness shatters. Off to the side, one entrance to a passage flickers weakly with a dull reddish glow. I know the monsters will be in there, waiting. But my Willow will be there, too. It will just take a while before my light starts to shine.  
  
I'm coming, love. I'm sorry it took so long.  
  
Rupert Giles:  
  
She's different now.  
  
She used to smile and laugh all the time. She used to be so resolved, so reliable. Whenever we were down, she would always be the one spur us on, to cheer us up, carrying the reference book we really needed with one hand and giving us a hug with the other. "Old Reliable," we called her.  
  
She rarely smiles now. She never laughs. She seemed contented for a while when the US and England managed to do as well as they did in the World Cup, but there were limits, and not just to the teams' performance. She spends a lot of time sitting her in bedroom, staring into space. Or writing in her journal. The psychiatrists have given her a lot of homework, and to her credit, she's been doing it all and more, painful though it is. Perhaps "Old Reliable" still applies. Perhaps it's wishful thinking on my part.  
  
I try to spend time with her. We go on lots of walks around London, visit the tourist attractions, spend time in pubs. We talk of many things, and nothing. Sometimes I try to get her to tell me what she's feeling. She dodges. I push her. She looks down and tells me she's not ready, that she's already being pushed beyond her limits by the psychiatrists, that she needs some time to feel safe. I relent.  
  
A few weeks ago, she told me that she was frustrated by her performance on some standard psychiatric tests. I was only in the tenth percentile, she said. I've never been in the tenth percentile on any test in my whole life, she said. Willow, I said, you don't understand how remarkable that is. A few weeks ago you would have been in the zeroth percentile. She nodded, but whether I helped I can only guess. I have learned to guess conservatively.  
  
Things have been getting better. I have to remind myself of that. For the past few days, she's been having me hold her for what seem like seconds, but are really half-hour or hour periods. She still isn't saying anything, but she no longer pushes me away. I regularly hear her heart beating against mine.  
  
Of course, her heart beats differently now. The scales began appearing on her arms a few weeks ago, in reality, and the physical changes to her heart began appearing on X-rays about the same time. She is becoming a new person in many ways.  
  
On the upside, this new person will be granted the favor of being allowed to live. The Council and the coven have seen to that, exonerating her of charges of attempting to destroy the world. It was the least they could do. They could do more, of course. They could accelerate their snail- paced investigation into who Willow is, who tried to destroy her, and why. They claim the matter is complicated by what appear to be very high-level deceptions to hide Willow's identity and the identity of the attackers. I claim that some of the high-level deception is on the part of the Council and the coven. But we shall see.  
  
A few days ago, the Council and the coven decided to include Willow in their new continuous improvement initiative. Yes, even the magical bureaucracies are trying to enhance their core capabilities. They asked her to fill out a questionnaire on how they (interpretation: me) tried to deal with her situation, and how they might "improve their performance in the future." She resisted, saying there was nothing they could have done differently - and did an exceptionally poor job of saying so. They - we - insisted she fill out the questionnaire. She relented, but only slightly, writing but a single sentence on the paper. At first I was frustrated with her. Then I saw what Willow had written.  
  
"I wish someone had said they loved me after Tara died."  
  
I spent the rest of that afternoon staring into space, just like my redheaded witch.  
  
It is not just what is being done to Willow mentally. There are physical aspects, as well. With her new heart has come a dramatic increase in the rate at which her body generates and stores dark energies. These forces have to be monitored and controlled, as we have all been given an object lesson in what happens when said forces are allowed to build uncontrollably on their own. It is unimaginable what she now has to do to control them. I have no idea how she avoids going mad from the pain, although she has never cried out once. It is bad enough for me, and I only help her. Perhaps she finds the physical pain a welcome distraction from the mental.  
  
And yet.  
  
And yet, she will make it. I am proud of her, and what she has achieved. She doesn't understand the magnitude of being able to put "almost" in front of most what she did, considering the circumstances. Someday, I hope she will.  
  
She has been scarred and injured beyond belief, but she has been toughened and hardened, too. The soft arrogance and self-satisfaction that was too often in her eyes is gone - not that it was ever really there to begin with, I remind myself. Her eyes now are filled with pain and regret, but they have the glint of tempered steel. They are the eyes of someone you just might trust to raise the dead.  
  
I am reminded of the finest katanas - made of steel created by repeatedly re-firing and re-bending an iron bar, with the final blade being folded over a million times. Someday I will tell her about this analogy. Perhaps when I have any hope that she will appreciate it.  
  
I cry for her crimes. I cry for her suffering, and my own guilt in causing it. I mourn for the young girl I first met in the library so long ago, for she is gone forever. And yet, despite everything that has happened, I am secretly very pleased. I like this new Willow so much better than the old one. This Willow is real.  
  
Sheila Rosenberg:  
  
I saw a picture on my mantle today, and, silly me, it took me so long to remember it was a picture of Willow. My little girl. Why did it take me so long to remember? Oh, well, just getting a little old, and attended a few too many conferences, I guess.  
  
I don't think she's been home in a while. At least, not that I can remember. She's in college, but you'd think a girl could visit her parents occasionally. Oh, well.  
  
Maybe she's still rebelling. I wonder why that might be... hmm, I know. Maybe she's unhappy about being adopted. I know it must be hard for her, not fully knowing who she is and where she's from. Of course, I don't know much about her either, other than her name, but... but, I do know where I can find out. The next time she visits us, we can take her over to that nice man at the adoption agency who found her, and see what he has to say. He had such unique rainbow-colored eyes, and he was so amusing when he walked! I liked him quite a bit, although my husband was a little creeped out. Oh, well...  
  
I saw a picture on my mantle today, and silly me, I just can't seem to remember who it's a picture of...  
  
Willow:  
  
It's been two months since the bad classroom thing. Two months of pure hell they call "therapy." Okay, not that bad - I've been in a lot closer to pure hell, after all. Have to be completely honest, they keep telling me.  
  
To celebrate, the psychiatrist gave me another test today. I've been doing badly enough on the multiple-choice ones, but this was one was a real challenge. Essay questions. And Daddy would get to help grade my answers. Worse, I'm under stresses that might negatively impact my test performance. I know that Buffy used the chain yesterday.  
  
No postponing this test, though. Let's see. "Question 1: do you feel remorse for your actions between the time of Tara's death and your final return to having a single consciousness? If so, how? Be precise and honest."  
  
Translation: am I sorry for what I did between the time my love was murdered and the time I threw up the cursed orb? Great. It's only the first question and I've already failed.  
  
Sorry? When you've done what I've done, there is no sorry. How can there be?  
  
Not that there's an hour that goes by where I don't think about it - all of it. So I'll at least be able to meet the detail requirements.  
  
I murdered two people, one of them with extreme torture. There is no possible apology for that. No possible explanation. Okay - maybe there were some mitigating circumstances, and the test insists I be honest. One of them was a dirty magic pusher in the act of sexually assaulting me. The other was a psychopath who had just shot my best friend and killed my love. He liked hurting and killing women, and wanted to do it again and again.  
  
But he was innocent of what I flayed him and incinerated him for - just a pawn in some more evil monster's game. And even if he was guilty, it wasn't my place to judge and sentence him. It certainly wasn't my place to torture him like that. No possible pardon.  
  
I tried to kill Warren's two accomplices, who were really innocent of murdering Tara. Okay, Andrew seems to be bad news, but Jonathan - that could so have been me, under the right circumstances. In the end, he ended up better than me.  
  
Towards the end, I tried to kill Giles and Buffy, two of the people who are closest to me in whole world. Okay, being honest, the little bit of humanity I had left managed to hold me back. I could have flayed them alive had I wanted to, rather than just throw them into walls and ceilings, shoot fireballs at them, and summon hordes of skeletons to eviscerate them. Go me. Again, no apology acceptable.  
  
And then again with Giles... it had to be more skeletons, more crumbled masonry. And it had to be a gun. Goddess.  
  
And then there's Buffy. The fear as she saw me with Dawn. The pain she showed as she threw me around the magic shop, desperately trying to keep me from killing Andrew and Jonathan. Worst of all, the deep look of betrayal in her eyes.  
  
And then again with Buffy - well, Buffy wasn't directly involved. She just had to watch. I can't imagine what she must have felt when I shot... them. I just know what she did. I also know that she got to England by wishing for vengeance against me - through Anya. A little flag at the back of my mind pops up whenever I think about Buffy's wish, and every time I smack it back down. That's something I just can't deal with right now.  
  
Of all the people I have to see again when I go back to Sunnydale, Buffy will be the hardest. I'd rather face Anya and her IOUs any day.  
  
Then there was Xander. I don't remember trying to kill him directly, just caught him in the crossfire a few times and slashed him when he risked everything to save me. Thank you, Xander, for everything. Again, for the 1000th time.  
  
Then there was that whole coming real close to ending the world thing. Oh, okay - I've been officially cleared of that. Good thing, too - I'll be allowed to live. The Council and other authorities deal strictly with apocalyptic threats. But for me, no guilt at all - other than being the massive threat that called the coven and Giles into action to begin with. Hard for me to get past that part, even if the Council and the coven see it differently.  
  
Then there's Dawn. I couldn't write anything about what I tried to do - to her - and why - other than a single sentence. I still can't. But thank you, Dawnie. Thank you again, for everything, for the 2000th time.  
  
And then there's Tara. Someday I might be able to mourn for you properly, my love. Really.  
  
Oh, okay, being really honest, it wasn't now-me who killed Warren and Rack, or tried to kill Dawnie, or committed any of the other crimes. It was evil- me. But, evil-me was part of me, still is, and always will be. I let her out, let her take control. It was inevitable when I became too ashamed, too hateful of myself to get help, to trust my friends. To let them know what was really happening and try to drain the emotional darkness and physical darkness building inside me. Evil-me went on a wild ride of a rampage, but then-me gave her the keys to do it.  
  
Because I didn't tell my loved ones about the evil demon in me, I ended up showing them. Goddess.  
  
Even if - Tara hadn't died, evil-me would have come out, probably in a few days. And, have to be honest, I must, it probably would have been over an argument with Tara, and I would have killed her. My mind reels from what would have happened then.  
  
Which finally brings me to me. I wish I could go back in time. I wish I could go back to that scared, angry girl who secretly hated herself so much. I wish I could talk some sense into her, make her see how much she was loved. Gotten her to face the truth, and made her see that just maybe it could have been okay after all. But it's too late now. She's gone. No amount of sorry will change that fact.  
  
So you see, Mr. Psychiatrist, I have failed your question. So just slap a big 'F' on my test, and let's move on.  
  
"Question 2: How do you feel about yourself? Be precise and honest."  
  
Oh. So now the Sunnydale School Board wants to assess my self-esteem. Have to admit that evil-me did get in a few good lines.  
  
Hmm. I have committed appalling crimes for which no apology is possible, reference question 1.  
  
I am a demon. My heart makes me one of the most powerful and potentially threatening of my kind. I have no idea how threatening, because I do not know what kind of demon I really am. Whatever I am, someone hates me enough to want to kill me, my friends, my family, my love, and my world. And, as a gay, Jewish woman, I do appreciate the symbolism. Fully.  
  
It is not just being a demon. I do not know who I am. I know only my first name. I am Willow Unknown.  
  
And Tara is gone. My light, extinguished forever.  
  
Doesn't sound promising.  
  
But there are a few things that aren't so bad.  
  
I killed people. I almost killed innocent people, including my friends and family. I almost ended the world. But the key word is "almost." In the end, I did beat them. Both of them - the Willow who wanted to destroy her world from the inside as well as the Willow who wanted to destroy her world more directly.  
  
And there's one other thing. Even at my worst, evil-me - I - never enjoyed it. Yeah, okay, this doesn't sound too convincing based on what I said and did, reference question 1. I craved it, yes. Anything to fill the dark void I had become. But I never, ever liked it.  
  
Of course, the only way I could beat the split-Willow thing was with help. I have friends and family who love me. I wish I had understood just how much.  
  
I can be a good demon, like Clem. There is no requirement that I have to be evil just because I have a few scales. I have a soul, after all. I remember my Plato: "Virtue has no master." Pretty good, huh, Mr. Psychiatrist? As for the bad symbolism that some people might use to reinforce their own bigotry - that's a problem that they have. They can damn well seek professional help for it. I am who I am, not what they want to believe. Sorry, Mr. Psychiatrist, don't mean to use profanity. Hope you won't downgrade me too much.  
  
If all I ever know about myself is a first name, I will manage. I do not need a detailed label.  
  
I will miss Tara forever. Her light is gone.  
  
But there are other lights in my life - Buffy, Xander, Giles. Dawn. Sometimes even Anya, although I'm still dreading all the work I'm going to have to do to make up for the Magic Box. I miss them greatly. For too long, I was too ashamed to even consider reuniting with them. Now, I just want to see them again.  
  
So I don't hate myself. Not anymore.  
  
I don't know how much I like myself, though. I need more time. I spent so much time running from myself that I've hardly been introduced. But maybe things might be okay.  
  
Time's up. Please place your pencils down on your desk.  
  
Giles got to review my answers. He managed to keep his face expressionless the whole time he read them. Then he started crying. My heart sank.  
  
Then he said something I will always remember. "I'm so proud of you, Willow."  
  
I started crying, too. For the first time in months. A girl is always happy to please Daddy.  
  
* * * The End (for now) * * *  
  
Author's notes to follow. 


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